Merry Christmas, Angel
by pat weakley
Summary: This is our third motherdaughter collaboration. Buffy and the Scoobies join Angel in L.A. for Christmas. Caleb returns to destroy the future by killing Dawn. Romance blooms between Dawn and Connor.
1. Default Chapter

Authors notes: This story takes place some time after the last Buffy episode. It presupposes that Connor has regained his memory after the events in the episode "Home" and has rejoined Angel and company. One of these days we may get around to writing a story about that. Who knows? See our story "Like Father, Like Son" to see how Connor first dealt with his vampire heritage.   
  
  
  


Merry Christmas Angel   
  
  
  


Chapter One   
  
  
  


I   
  


Angel stepped back to admire the Christmas tree in his study in the Wolfman and Hart building. The great pine nearly reached to the top of the darkened room's high ceiling. An assortment of delicate multi-colored ornaments glittered in the tiny bright lights scattered in its thick branches. Christmas carols were playing on the stereo in the background. The drapes were drawn back to show the city lights scattered below them like millions of stars. One of the perks of having a suite on the top floor of the Wolfman and Hart building, he reflected.   
  


"Looks pretty," Fred said softly. Her fingers were absently playing with Connor's fine hair as he sat in front of her on the floor wrapped up to his chin in a thick, soft afghan. Connor's deep blue eyes were half shut in contentment.   
  


"Thanks," Angel said as he sat on the couch next to Fred. He lifted a steaming mug of hot cocoa from the end table and took a large swallow. Enjoying the unusual feeling of peace he rested his head against the back of the couch.   
  


"How cozy," Spike commented cynically from where he stood leaning up against the wall near the door. "All this balderdash is making me feel nauseous," he added as he roughly wiped a spot of moisture from the corner of his eye.   
  


"Shut up, Spike," Gunn growled, smacking the blond vampire upside his head as he came into the room.   
  


"Well if it isn't old velvet head," Spike growled. "So what glad tidings do you bear us?" he asked.   
  


"Nothin'" Gunn answered as he went to pour himself a mug of hot cocoa from the sidebar where Lorne was humming to the song on the stereo. "Everything's right with the world," Gunn added. He passed Connor and noogied the young man's hair as he passed. "How you doin' Peter Pan?"   
  


"Hunh?" Connor said, barely rousing from a dreamy half sleep.   
  


"Never mind, kid," Gunn said as he collapsed on the other couch in the room.   
  


"I can't believe how wonderful everything has turned out," Cordy said from the chair where she was curled up in an afghan that matched the one that covered Connor. "If it hadn't been for Connor, I'd have never woken up from that coma." She sighed. "I would've missed all of this."   
  


"Yes, indeed," Wesley commented in his precise English accent, from the other chair where he was trying to read a leather bound book in the dim light coming in from a candle next to him. "If Connor had not discovered the lost scroll of Raratu and recovered his memory, the world would have surely ended."   
  


"Whatever," Spike groaned, "We've heard the story millions of times before. The kid's a hero. So am I, so's Angel. So's everybody in this bloody room."   
  


"Well," Fred began then paused, distracted from sound of loud purring. "Huh?" she said, looking down at Connor who was making the odd sound.   
  


"Oh, yeah," Angel answering Fred's unspoken question, "Vampire's purr when they're contented."   
  


"I've never purred," Spike said grumpily.   
  


"You probably never were contented," Cordy commented archly.   
  


"Oh, that's sweet," Fred said, then added uncertainly, "I think . . . "   
  


Suddenly the phone rang, breaking the peaceful atmosphere of the room. Connor exploded to a crouching stance, ready to do battle.   
  


"Relax, Tiger," Lorne said, "It's just the phone."   
  


"Oh," Connor said. "I knew that," he added, trying to hide his embarrassment as he sat back down in front of Fred.   
  


Lorne picked up the phone, listened for a few moments, then he said, holding the phone out, "It's for you, Angel face."   
  


Angel pulled himself reluctantly from the couch. "It's okay, son" he said to Connor, mussing his hair as he passed "It startled me, too."   
  


"Why does everyone keep on messing with my hair?" Connor muttered under his breath as he tried to finger comb it smooth.   
  


"Because we love it," Fred answered, messing it up again.   
  


With a growl, Connor shot her a dirty look and tried to straighten his hair again. "I swear I'll kill the next person who touches my hair."   
  


"Awww," Fred replied, running her fingers through his hair even more vigorously.   
  


"That does it!" Connor shouted, leaping at Fred. "How does it feel, Big Sis?" he said as he attacked her long curls. Fred dissolved into squeals of laughter and giggling.   
  


"Quiet!" Angel shouted above the noise, "I'm trying to talk on the phone!"   
  


"Shhh," Fred said to Connor, trying unsuccessfully to stop her uncontrolled giggling as she shoved him off. Connor rolled onto the couch, grinning from ear to ear.   
  


Cordy rolled her eyes at their antics and whispered to Lorne, "Who is it?"   
  


"Willow," Lorne mouthed as he sat next to Gunn.   
  


"That's all right, Willow," Angel said on the phone, "What was that again?"   
  


"Well, uh, remember when you said that we could come over to your place any time?" Willow asked gingerly.   
  


"Sure," Angel said, "Anytime."   
  


"Like tonight?"   
  


"Tonight?" Angel echoed, shooting the others in the room a surprised look.   
  


"Uh, yeah," Willow answered, "You know after Sunnydale kind of, you know, uh, imploded, we've been kind of on the road. And since you once said that we could come over to your place. Well, we . . . " her voice died off into uncertainty.   
  


"That's okay," Angel said quickly, "We'd love to have you over. We have a plenty of room here."   
  


"Is Buffy with them?" Spike asked, trying not to sound too interested.   
  


Connor looked at Spike with a lopsided grin, "Oooooooo, Spikey's got a girlfriend," he taunted.   
  


"Shut your hole, Kid, I'm just curious," Spike said defensively as he shrugged more deeply into his black leather coat.   
  


"Guys," Angel hissed at Connor and Spike. "Sorry, Will," he said returning to Willow. "How far are you from here?"   
  


"Uhh," Willow began, "It sounds like you have your hands full there. You sure you really want us to come over?"   
  


"Sure," Angel said quickly. "By the way," he said, sounding casual, "Who's with you. Not that we don't have plenty of room, but I'll need to let my staff know how many to expect."   
  


"Your staff?" Willow repeated with a slight laugh, "I can't imagine you having a staff. It's like you've so, uh, come up in the world since you left Sunnydale." 

"Considering that I now own the LA branch of Wolfman and Hart, I guess you could say I have come up in the world. So who's with you?" Angel asked again.   
  


"Well," Willow answered, "We've sent the Slayerettes to be trained by the Watcher's council so there's now only Giles, Xander, Faith . . . "   
  


Great, Angel thought, all the people I really don't want to see, but said only, "Good . . . " in an encouraging tone.   
  


"And Dawn," Willow continued. "And," she added in a gentle voice, "Buffy."   
  


"Buffy," Angel said, "How is she?"   
  


"Oh, she's doing fine," Willow answered too brightly, "We're doing all fine. How about you?"   
  


"Good, good," Angel answered.   
  


"Good," Willow said, then paused. "Uh, so how do we find your place?"   
  


"Right," Angel said quickly, "We're in the Wolfman and Hart building on the corner of Sunset and La Brea. You can't miss it. It's the tallest building around, all glass, the typical LA skyscraper. Oh yeah, and it reeks of evil."   
  


"Evil?" Willow echoed uncomfortably.   
  


"Oh, but we have it under control," Angel assured her.   
  


"Yeah, right, whatever," Connor added.   
  


Angel glared at him, then went back to the phone, "So how long do you think it'll take you to get here?"   
  


"Uh, Sunset and La Brea?" Willow said.   
  


"Yeah."   
  


"Big, tall building, all glass?"   
  


"Yeah."   
  


"Reeks of evil?"   
  


"Yeah."   
  


"Okay, should be five minutes."   
  
  
  


Five minutes later, Harmony walked into Angel's office. "Boss? Why are Buffy and her gang here?" she asked fearfully.   
  


"They're going to be spending Christmas with us," Angel answered.   
  


"Oh, good," she said, "Uh, could you tell them not to kill me? Please? You know she doesn't really like me."   
  


"Nobody does," Connor interjected.   
  


"Nobody asked you," Harmony sneered at him.   
  


"Connor, Harmony . . . " Angel said firmly. "It's not the time . . . " Shaking his head, he said to Harmony, "Where are they now?"   
  


"Who?" Harmony said blankly.   
  


"Buffy and her friends . . . "   
  


"Oh, yeah, them. They're downstairs. I had security hold them. I was afraid they were going to stake me."   
  


"Just send them up," Angel said.   
  


Harmony smiled sweetly, "Sure, Boss, anything you say." She went through the door, then came quickly back in. "Uh, you did say that you would make sure they wouldn't stake me?"   
  


"Yes, Harmony, I'll make sure you don't get staked," Angel answered, barely restraining his temper.   
  


"Goody," Harmony said before flouncing out the door again.   
  


"I swear one of these days," Gunn said, "I'm going to stake her."   
  


"Ditto," Connor agreed.   
  
  
  


A few minutes later Harmony returned. "They're here," she said.   
  


"Bring them in," Angel said, starting to get annoyed.   
  


"Oh, right, yeah," Harmony answered, then closed the door behind her.   
  


"Was she always that flaky or only after she became a vampire?" Gunn asked.   
  


"She was that flaky when I knew her in High School," Cordy answered. She frowned for a moment, "Was I that flaky?"   
  


"Nah," Angel answered.   
  


"Probably more," Connor remarked.   
  


"Connor . . . " Cordy protested.   
  


"Hi," Buffy said coming through the door.   
  


"Buffy!" Angel said in surprise.   
  


With a forced smile Buffy regarded everyone in the room. "Oh, Spike," she said, "I didn't expect to see you here. I thought you had died."   
  


"I did," Spike answered, carefully watching Buffy's reaction while he feigned elaborate disinterest.   
  


"Oh," Buffy said, not knowing how to get through the uncomfortable moment. Then her eyes fell on Connor, "Oh, you must be Connor. How are you?" she said while thrusting her hand out to him. "So nice to meet you."   
  


"Oh, is this the slayer you told me about?" Connor asked Angel. "Didn't she kill my mother?"   
  


Buffy's smile started to fade. "No," Angel said, correcting his son, "I killed her." He shrugged uncomfortably. "I had to. She was evil then. That was before you were born."   
  


"Oh," Connor said as if that made a lot of difference. He critically looked at Buffy who was several inches shorter than he was, "You're short," he said, taking her still outstretched hand.   
  


Shaking his hand, Buffy replied lightly, "So I've been told."   
  


Xander followed Willow into the room. "Nice digs, Deadboy," he commented to Angel. "Oh, and this must be Deadboy, junior," he added as he spotted Connor, presenting his hand to the young man, "You don't look like him at all," he said to Connor.   
  


"Thanks. I think," Connor replied. "Are you sure these are your friends?" Connor asked Angel.   
  


"Some of them more than others," Angel replied as he gave Willow a hug, "Glad to see you again," he said to her.   
  


"So am I," Willow breathed. She went the rounds giving everyone a hug.   
  


Cordy, stepping back after hugging Willow, regarded her critically for a moment. "So what happened to that Kennedy girl I heard you were going out with?"   
  


Willow shrugged, "We kind of broke up. She decided that she preferred boys."   
  


"Oh!" Cordy said, with a forced smile. "What about Oz? Ever thought about going back to him?"   
  


"Well," Willow blushed, "Sometimes, but you know, I'm gay . . . "   
  


"But can't that be fixed or something?" Cordy asked. "I'm sure Oz would take you back if you asked him real nice."   
  


"Sorry," Gunn interrupted, pushing himself in front of Cordelia, "Cordy, doesn't know what she is saying. It must be the egg nog."   
  


"Yeah. I understand," Willow said even though she noticed that everybody was drinking hot cocoa.   
  


"How are you doing, Old Man?" Giles said to Angel as he brought in Faith, Robin and Dawn. "I don't believe you've met Principal Robin Wood, have you?" he asked.   
  


"Former Principal," Robin said, taking Angel's hand, "I don't have much of a school anymore. Hell, I don't even have a town anymore," he added wryly. He glanced over to Spike, "I see you're doing well for a dead man. Remember you owe me that coat."   
  


Spike growled, but didn't say a word.   
  


"Hello," Wesley said, finally coming out of the book he had read, "The name's Wesley Windom Price. Pleased to meet you."   
  


"Name's Lorne," Lorne said, offering his hand.   
  


His eyes widening at Lorne's green skin and red horns, Robin merely said, "Nice to meet you, too."   
  


"Lorne is from Pilea," Fred explained, "But he's really nice. Not like most of the other people in his dimension. You have got to hear him sing. But maybe you can sing for him . . . "   
  


"Hunh?" Robin said, "I'm not much of a singer."   
  


"That's all right," Fred said, "Lorne's a telepathic clairvoyant. He reads your aura while you are singing and then tells you your future from that."   
  


"I don't know . . . " Robin said doubtfully.   
  


"Never mind, cupcake," Lorne said interrupting Fred, "He doesn't have to sing."   
  


"Thanks," Robin said, "I think."   
  


Giles looked up from cleaning his glasses and spotted Connor who was leaning his hip on Angel's desk, "My word, you must be Angel's son. The last time I heard you were mere infant."   
  


"Yeah," Faith said, as she sidled up to Connor, smacking him on the butt, "He has grown up quick. Don't you think?"   
  


"Hey!" Connor protested, "What's the big idea?"   
  


"You got a nice ass," she commented with a large grin, meaningfully looking him up and down with approval. "Been working out since I last saw you?"   
  


Looking at Faith defiantly, Connor crossed his arms across his chest, "Maybe. Who wants to know?" Suddenly his eyes widened.   
  


"Hi," Dawn said appearing from behind Giles. "My name's Dawn."   
  


Connor reddened under her gaze, "Hi," he said, striding quickly over to her. He took her hand and kissed it. "I'm very glad to meet you."   
  


"Cool," Dawn said, "Thanks. That is sooo cool. Did you learn that from your Dad?"   
  


"Nah, I learned it from TV," Connor replied more casually than he felt.   
  


"Gee, Willow," Dawn said in surprise, "He's not androgynous at all."   
  


"That's what I keep on telling people," Connor remarked. "Hey, I got some real cool weapons in my room. You want to see them?"   
  


"Cool. I'd love too. Do you have any video games too?"   
  


"'Course. I got them all," Connor enthused as he led Dawn out of the room.   
  


"Play nice," Buffy reminded them.   
  


"Buffy, shut up . . . " Dawn shot back to her sister.   
  


"Whatever," Buffy said with a sigh.   
  


"Not the way we did it in my day," Angel remarked, coming up beside Buffy.   
  


"Why do I suddenly feel so old?" Buffy commented as she took the hot cocoa he offered her.   
  


"Must be something to with the responsibility," Angel said sympathetically.   
  


"I could be chaperone," Spike interjected raising his hand.   
  


"Butt out, Spike," Both Angel and Buffy said.   
  


"Humph, only trying to help out here," Spike responded. "You never know what those two lovebirds might do."   
  


"Lovebirds?" Buffy and Angel echoed.   
  


"They just met," Buffy said.   
  


"Yeah," Angel said.   
  


"Can't see what's right in front of your faces, can you?" Spike retorted. "Even I could see the sparks fly when those two saw each other."   
  


"No . . . " Buffy said, "Angel . . . She's my sister . . . "   
  


"Relax . . . " Angel began, then thought it over. "Well, maybe it might not be a good idea to leave them alone too long."   
  


"Right." Buffy agreed, heading for the door.   
  
  
  
  
  


Connor escorted Dawn into his room. Dark blue drapes were drawn across a sliding glass window that stretched all the way across one side of the room. The walls were painted a deep red and covered with highly polished bladed weapons. Over the king size bed was a large yin/yang symbol.   
  


"Did you do the decorating yourself?" Dawn remarked.   
  


"Sure did," Connor said proudly.   
  


"Nice . . . " Dawn remarked in approval. She walked over to one of the weapons displayed on the wall and reached for it.   
  


"Wait . . . " Connor said catching up with her, "Be careful, you might cut yourself . . . "   
  


Dawn lifted the weapon, a slender jewel-encrusted dagger, and swept it around skillfully before flipping it handle first to Connor. "Nice balance."   
  


Connor caught the dagger in mid air, "Thanks," he said, putting it back onto the wall. "It was my Mom's. My Dad gave to her in the 18th Century for their second anniversary together."   
  


"Nice. Did she use it a lot?"   
  


"Nah," Connor, said, "Only on my Dad when he was bad."   
  


"Oh?"   
  


Connor smiled, "Just kidding. It's only a decorative dagger. You wouldn't want to mess it up with blood and stuff, you know. Hey," he said, "You want to play with my PS2?"   
  


"Sure!"   
  


"Great!" Connor said jumping on his bed and flipping on his TV.   
  


Dawn crawled onto the bed next to him. "It's so cool having money."   
  


"Yeah, I like it too. You should've seen the place I had to live in Quor'toth. It sucked big time."   
  


"I sure wish I had a room of my own again," Dawn said wistfully, "We've been on the road ever since Sunnydale became a big hole. I always have to share a motel room with Faith, Buffy and Willow. You have no idea how much it sucks when four girls share the same room."   
  


"That's too bad," Connor said, leaning toward Dawn, "I'll ask my Dad to give you a room of your own."   
  


"Thanks," Dawn said. "Hey. What's that around your neck?" she said noticing a locket that had fallen out of Connor's shirt.   
  


"Oh, that. It's a locket my Dad gave my Mom," He said, opening the locket, "See, that's him and her."   
  


Leaning more closely, Dawn looked at the pictures. "Your Mom was very beautiful. But your Dad, uh, I think I like him better with short hair."   
  


Connor smiled, leaning so close to Dawn that her long hair brushed his face. He liked the way it smelled, like strawberries and cinnamon. "I like your hair," he said.   
  


Dawn shyly brushed her hair away. "Thanks," she said very softly, gazing into his eyes. "I love the color of your eyes."   
  


Their eyes met. Connor leaned closer as he slipped a hand around her slender waist. For a moment their lips brushed. 

"Hey!" Buffy said bursting into the room with Angel behind her, "Anybody feel like dinner?"   
  


With her eyes widened in feigned innocence, she asked, "What you doing?"   
  


"Nothing," Dawn said, quickly rolling off the bed and getting to her feet. "We were just playing a game."   
  


"Looks to me like it's a game I'd like to play," Spike commented, looking over Buffy's shoulder.   
  


Buffy rammed an elbow into his stomach, making him double over gasping for breath. "Spike!" she hissed at him, "She's my sister!"   
  


"Looks like Little Bit there is growing up, Buffy," he said after regaining his breath.   
  


Connor sat on his bed, stunned, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.   
  


"What do you have to say for yourself, Son?" Angel asked.   
  


Connor blinked for a few times. "Uh, I need a lock?"   
  


"Angel, do something!" Buffy demanded.   
  


"I think I'll make some reservations," he said escaping out of the room.   
  


Connor quickly followed his father out, ducking sheepishly under Buffy's gaze as he tried to pass her. Buffy didn't move an inch out of his way. She stood in the open doorway, arms across her chest, glaring at him, forcing him to sidle tightly against doorjamb.   
  


"Good show, Old Man," Spike said, giving a thumb's up to the young man. Connor slammed a fist into Spike's stomach, doubling him over.   
  


Angel regarded Spike critically, "That's what you get for opening your fat trap."   
  
  
  


II   
  
  
  


Many hours later everyone was at the Chez Pierre dressed in their holiday finest. All of the men were in tuxedos including Connor, who fitfully pulled at the too tight collar. Cordelia, smacked the back of his head, "Leave it alone," she hissed under her breath. "Everyone's looking."   
  


"I don't care," Connor hissed back at her, "It's too freakin' tight. I think I'm going to pass out."   
  


"Oh, Connor," Dawn said coming from behind him, "You look so," her eyes traveled up and down, "So handsome."   
  


"Uh, thanks," Connor responded with a pleased grin even though his fair complexion had turned a bright shade of pink. He self-consciously straightened his tie. "You look beautiful tonight."   
  


Dawn blushed at his compliment, shyly twirling around, making the sheer white skirts of her princess cut dress sweep outward. The blue sequined bodice of her dress was held up by matching spaghetti straps that tied behind her neck leaving her smooth back exposed down to her waist. Her dark brown hair was piled high up in falling waves of curls. "Thanks," she said, "We all went shopping with Cordelia and a Wolfman and Hart credit card. It was a blast."   
  


"Spike!" they heard Cordelia say. "You are not wearing that nasty coat in here."   
  


"Look, Luv," Spike said, "My coat goes wherever I go," he protested.   
  


"I'll help you with that coat, Spike," Robin said, offering to help him take it off.   
  


Spike glared at him, but allowed the tall black man to take it, "I want it back afterwards, mate," he said firmly as Robin handed it to the coat check girl.   
  


"I'll buy you a new one," Robin said to him.   
  


"Can't afford it," Spike replied, "Besides it's too small for you."   
  


"Guys, guys," Fred interrupted, "It's the holidays. Let's save the fighting for later."   
  


"Yeah, Peace on Earth and all that bloody rot," Spike grumbled as Fred took his arm and led him into the dining room.   
  


Faith grabbed Robin's arm. "You boys can duke it out later," she said.   
  


Robin's eyes lit up, admiring the way the Slayer looked. Usually preferring tight black leather pants, she was dressed in a shimmery black dress that showed every curve of her athletic figure. "Enjoy the sight, Big Boy. This is going to be the last time you see it. I can't wait to get out of it."   
  


"I can't wait to help you out of it," Robin replied.   
  


Faith's eyes meaningfully checked Robin out, "Yeah. Me too," she said with a flip of her shoulder length hair.   
  


  
  
  
  


Connor pulled a chair out for Dawn and bowed as she slid gracefully into it. He happily sat in the chair next to her and helped her put the napkin on her lap.   
  


"Angel," Buffy hissed into Angel's ear from behind as she grasped his shoulder in an iron grip.   
  


"Ouch," Angel grimaced, grabbing his shoulder, "That hurts, Buff! You know that's going to leave a bruise!"   
  


"Do something. Now! Or you're going wind up with a lot more than a bruise!"   
  


"Gunn," he said who was sitting next to Dawn, "Do you mind swapping seats with Dawn?"   
  


"Uh . . . " Gunn started in protest, "Fred and I . . . "   
  


Buffy glared at him. "Okay," Gunn said quickly, "Whatever you say."   
  


Connor glared at his father, "Dad . . . "   
  


"She's the Slayer, and she's Dawn's big sister. I don't want to mess with her. Neither do you."   
  


"But . . . "   
  


"Connor . . . "   
  


"Man, you're whipped."   
  


"You haven't been whipped until it's been done by a Slayer. Believe me. Don't mess with her."   
  


"Who? Dawn or Buffy?" Connor shot back, being obstinately dense.   
  


"Both."   
  


"Whatever."   
  


Buffy settled into her seat next to Angel, "Now isn't this nice?" she asked.   
  


"Buffy . . . " Dawn protested. "You're embarrassing me . . . "   
  


"Good," Buffy said as she reached for the menu that the waiter was handing her. "Now, let's all have a nice time, shall we?" she said, elaborately pleasant.   
  
  
  


Dawn pouted for a moment, picked up her menu, then quickly stuck her tongue out at her older sister before retreating behind it.   
  


  
  


The meal went quickly after all the arguments were done. Dawn was fascinated by Fred's tales of Pilea which Cordelia ignored in favor of fussing over Xander.   
  


"How did you lose your eye?" she asked.   
  


"It was during the last battle for Sunnydale, this nasty character called Caleb squeezed it out."   
  


"Eeeew," Cordelia commented, regarding the plate in front of her. "I'm glad dinner's almost over," she said, pushing it away, "Suddenly I don't feel hungry any more."   
  


"That's all right," Fred remarked from across the table, "We can fix you up with a new one tomorrow."   
  


"You can?" Xander said hopefully.   
  


"Sure. It's a very easy process. A few simple spells, a little bit of electronics and you'll be as good as new."   
  


"Spells?" Willow said with interest, "What kind of spells? Can I help?"   
  


"Sure, of course. It's always better when we use a real witch. I think it has something to do with innate magic powers. It seems to be more effective than an ordinary person just reading out of a book."   
  
  
  


Soft music began filling the air. "Ladies and gentlemen, for your listening pleasure, The Orchid Trio. We invite you to share a dance with your special someone on our dance floor."   
  


Connor's eyes lit up. He slowly shoved his chair back with a sly glance at Angel. "Would you like to dance?" he politely asked Dawn.   
  


Buffy frowned at her sister, but didn't say a word. Angel's hand held her hand in a white knuckled grasp. "Let them have a good time, Buff," he said to her.   
  


"But . . . "   
  


"No buts, Buffy."   
  


Buffy sighed, "Go ahead, Dawn." She shot a glare at Connor, "Be good to my sister. Or else."   
  


Connor shot her wide grin as he led Dawn to the dance floor.   
  


  
  


"This is so romantic," Dawn breathed as they glided on the dance floor. "Where did you learn to dance?"   
  


"My Dad," Connor answered, "You know it's not that much different from fighting. Just a matter of balance," he added, dipping Dawn gracefully.   
  


"Wow, I'm impressed," Dawn whispered into his ear, giving it a little nibble.   
  


Connor purred deep in his throat. "That turns me on."   
  


"What?" Dawn asked playfully.   
  


"I like it. Being bitten."   
  


"So are you human or vampire?" Dawn asked.   
  


"A little of both . . . " Connor replied, gently nibbling her neck.   
  


"Mmm, that does feel good . . . "   
  


"Maybe later when we get rid of the others . . . "   
  


"Your place or mine?"   
  


"Your choice," Connor whispered, nibbling her neck a little more, traveling up to her lips. Dawn's eyes were half closed in anticipation.   
  


"Don't mind if I crash your little party?" Demanded a drawling voice above the crashing of glass. A man dressed in the black suit and white collar of a priest waded through the devastation and screaming people like he was taking a Sunday walk through the park. Around his neck was a golden pendent of an odd dog-like creature that was heavily inlaid with lapis lazuli, jet and coral.   
  


"Oh my God! It can't be!" Dawn exclaimed.   
  


"Who is that?" Connor exclaimed, protectively shoving Dawn behind him.   
  


"It's Caleb!"   
  


"Who's Caleb?" Connor asked. All around them people were screaming and running.   
  


"A bad ass who should've stayed dead if he had known what was good for him," Buffy said coming from behind them. "Spike," she ordered, "Get Connor and Dawn the hell out of here. Now!"   
  


"No!" Connor protested, "I can fight."   
  


"Move it!" Buffy snapped.   
  


"Get Dawn out of here!" Angel said, joining Buffy.   
  


"But . . . "   
  


"You heard me," Angel growled at him, his face going into vamp mode.   
  


"Spike, move," Angel snapped, "Get them out of danger." 

"All right, Kiddies, you heard Daddy, let's get the bloody hell out of here."   
  


"Well, well, Ain't it nice to see everybody again," Caleb said confidently, as Robin and Faith joined Buffy and Angel, "And we got us some new faces, too," he added, noticing Cordelia, Wesley, Fred and Gunn. "What happened to those sweet little Slayerettes you all were keepin'?"   
  


"They're in a safe place, ass hole," Faith snapped at him, "Where you can't reach them."   
  


"Well, now, I ain't interested in them right now anyway. No, right now I'm only interested in one little ol' gal," he said, pointing a finger at Dawn. The pendent around his neck started to glow hotly.   
  


"No!" Connor yelled suddenly as Dawn began to float in the air toward Caleb. Connor grabbed her around the waist, but found himself floating toward the evil priest along with the frightened girl.   
  


"Well, ain't that sweet," Caleb remarked, "Ain't young love just grand? But I need only the girl right now. You, boy, I'll take care of later," he said, the force of his power tearing Connor away from Dawn.   
  


"You're going to have to take care of me now!" Connor yelled at him, grabbing a carving knife from a nearby table, "To get her, you're going to have to go through me first!"   
  


"With pleasure," Caleb grinned. With a wave of his hand, steak knives spun up from the floor. Caleb nodded and they zoomed at Connor. Connor dove for the ground, pulling an upended table in front of him barely in time. The flying knives buried themselves into the table instead of Connor.   
  


"My turn," Connor growled, his eyes a feral gold. He rocketed the carving knife at Caleb. The knife found its mark, Caleb's heart, and slid cleanly through him.   
  


Caleb grinned, seeing the knife quivering in a pillar behind him, "Well ain't that just nice. Ain't I lucky mah lord loves me?"   
  


Caleb gestured and the table shielding Connor rose into the air. Connor rolled out of the way moments before it came crashing back to the ground. "Boy, I have just about had enough of you." Caleb gestured and sent Connor flying backwards into Angel. Angel and Connor fell heavily in a scramble of arms and legs. Angel was the first to get to his feet. He reached out a hand to help his son to his feet.   
  


"No!" Connor screamed, seeing a sharpened table leg heading for Angel's unprotected back. Connor shoved his father out of the way at the last moment, taking the wooden missile in his side. 

"Ooh, ouch," Caleb grimaced, "Ah, bet that hurt."   
  


"You're going to be the one hurting after we're done with you!" Buffy shouted at Caleb. Behind her stood the rest of the gang.   
  


"Now, this just ain't fair," Caleb protested seeing the Scoobies and Angel's people charging toward him, "Ten against one, just ain't fair, don't you think? Ah, but," he said as the Bringers, strange silent creatures whose eyes and mouths were crudely sown shut, appeared around him, "That's what I call evening up the odds. Wouldn't you say?" One of the Bringers grabbed an escaping patron and snapped his neck. "Unfortunately they ain't too particular who they kill."   
  


A fierce battle followed. The Scoobies and Angel's people fought valiantly against the Bringers. For a moment even Xander and Cordelia forgot their differences, covering each other's backs under the onslaught of the Bringers. Angel was torn between protecting Connor who had collapsed and joining the others in the battle.   
  


Buffy tried to get close to Caleb, trying to get Dawn away from him. "Damn," she cursed, hampered by the confining skirt of her dress. Grabbing a knife, she cut the skirt short around her knees.   
  


"Buffy!" Cordelia protested seeing her do it, "That's a Vera Wang! Do you have any idea how much that dress costs?"   
  


"Have Wolfman and Hart put it on my bill," Buffy shot back at her.   
  


Buffy flew into the Bringers surrounding Caleb. Even though their eyes were sown shut, the Bringers unerringly met her blow for blow. Faith joined her and the two girls began plowing through the creatures, but for each one they put out of commission, another two appeared to take its place.   
  


Caleb sighed as if much put upon, "People, people, I do declare that I am beginning to get terribly bored. It's time to call it night."   
  


"Only when I'm done with you," Buffy snapped at him.   
  


"Girl," Caleb countered, "I am done with you." He gestured and Buffy found herself suspended in midair. Suddenly it seemed like the world had slipped out from beneath her and she found herself falling down into a field of shattered tables and chairs. At the last moment she was able to twist herself into a tight ball, but she fell heavily, an arm snapping audibly as she landed on a table top.   
  


Barely conscious, Buffy looked around her. Angel was huddled over Connor who was far too pale and still, as if all of his vitality had been drained out of him. Xander and Cordelia were barely standing, but Xander had lost his eyepatch in the battle so that the ugly gap where his eye was once was now exposed. Faith was supporting Robin who was covered with cuts and bruises. Giles, Wesley and Spike still fought on, but the odds were becoming insurmountable. It's happening all over again, Buffy thought as her own consciousness faded in and out.   
  


One by one the Bringers started forming a double column in front of Caleb. Dawn stood silently beside him as though lost in a waking nightmare. Buffy didn't have the strength to stop him as he and Dawn walked between the ranks of the bizarre honor guard. No one could make a move. They could only stand and watch in horror.   
  


A black Cadillac limousine appeared at the restaurant's front door. Caleb, parodying Continental manners, bowed exaggeratedly to Dawn as he opened the back door, "Shall we, Mademoiselle?" he said even though she lacked the will to say yea or nay.   
  


Police sirens began to fill the air as the limousine pulled away from the curb. In a flash of an eye it was gone as if it had never existed.   
  


Giles knelt next to Angel who was holding Connor in his arms, "How is he?" he asked.   
  


"He's hurt," Angel answered, for a moment he could barely get out his words, "He saved my life."   
  
  
  


III   
  


Angel slammed the door to Connor's room open with a powerful kick. Connor was limply cradled in his arms. The ride back to the Wolfman and Hart building had been a nightmare. Half of the time it seemed like Connor had finally lost the battle for life. He had lost a lot of blood, maybe too much, but he still stubbornly hung on to life.   
  


Angel gently laid Connor down on his bed. Wesley leaned over and checked Connor's pulse. "He's slipping. He has to get some blood now."   
  


"We should have brought him to a hospital," Giles said as he reached for the phone next to the bed.   
  


Wesley grasped Giles' hand, "They wouldn't know what to do with him."   
  


"But . . . " Giles began, not understanding.   
  


"It's too risky. Besides it's not a transfusion that he needs." He glanced over to Harmony who stood in the doorway wringing her hands. "Get me some bandages and antiseptics," he told her.   
  


"How can you say he doesn't need a transfusion?" Giles asked.   
  


"Connor is the son of two vampires," Wesley explained, "Genetically he is human, but he is in the process of becoming a vampire."   
  


"Impossible . . . " Giles said.   
  


"So is two Vampires making a child in the first place." Wesley accepted the bandages from Harmony.   
  


"Do you want me to get some pig's blood?" she volunteered. "Personally, I don't care for the stuff. Even though Angel has some stuff that pretty decent, it's not the same. Human's much better," she commented helpfully.   
  


"Human blood," Giles began to sputter, "How could you possibly think . . . "   
  


"Unfortunately she's right," Wesley said as he cut away Connor's clothes. He hissed in dismay then continued as unemotionally as he could. "It's far deeper than I had thought," he commented. "Get some hot water and towels," he said to Harmony who quickly did as she was told.   
  


"What do you mean about the human blood?"   
  


"It's quite simple, really," Wesley said, "Connor, you might say, is like a diabetic. He's on the knife edge of control. If he goes too long without drinking blood, he gets very ill. If he gets too much, especially human, he could lose his hold on his humanity. He might even become worse than Angelus was . . . "   
  


"Dear Lord . . . " Giles, said, hiding his dismay in the business of removing his glasses and cleaning them.   
  


"Dear Lord, indeed," Wesley said, "Unfortunately, due to his injuries, the pig's blood will not do. He needs to feed on human blood. It has the necessary factors that will restore him."   
  


Giles looked up at Angel who had remained standing, grimly watching Wesley work on his son. "Do you have any human blood in stock?" he asked.   
  


Wesley interrupted him. "Unfortunately human blood that has been stored will not be adequate. It must still be warm." He paused, at a loss for the right words. He sighed, there was no good way to say it. "It must come from directly from the vein."   
  


"You mean that he must feed directly from someone?" Giles said in horror.   
  


"Yes," Wesley said reluctantly, "He must, but if he drinks too much, not only will the person die, but Connor could very possibly lose his soul."   
  


"I'll do it," Buffy said from the doorway.   
  


Wesley regarded her thoughtfully. Her arm was in a cast and a bandage was wrapped around her forehead. She was nearly as pale as her bandages. "I'm sorry but not this time," he said.   
  


"Any of us will be glad to," Cordelia said.   
  


"Unfortunately," Wesley said, "Buffy is quite correct. It must be the blood of a Slayer. Only a Slayer can give enough blood without losing her life in the process."   
  


"I'm good," Faith said, removing the coat that Robin had given her during their escape from the restaurant. She bared her arm, "Do whatever you need to do."   
  


Wesley regarded her arm. "So sorry, Faith, he must drink from your neck."   
  


"My neck?" Faith said, raising a hand to her throat.   
  


"No way," Robin retorted, getting in front of Faith, "He could kill her."   
  


"Feeding from the jugular vein is the only way Connor can get all the blood he needs."   
  


"Not from Faith," Robin said, refusing to look Angel in the eye.   
  


"Who do you think you are?" Faith snapped at him, "Connor might die. I'm not going to stand by and let that happen."   
  


"But . . . " Robin began.   
  


"You might be my boy toy, but you're not the boss of me." Faith said as she moved to sit next to Wesley. She looked up at Robin and grinned lopsidedly. "I love you."   
  


She pulled her hair back, "What next?" she asked Wesley.   
  


Wesley looked helplessly around. "Uh, could everybody leave?" he asked.   
  


"I'm staying," Angel said firmly.   
  


"Of course, but . . . " Wesley looked at the others standing in the open doorway.   
  


"We're going," Buffy said. She gently grabbed Robin's arm, "Let's go."   
  


"I'm staying," he said, stubbornly crossing his arms across his chest, determined not to move out of the room.   
  


Buffy looked at Wesley who shook his head. "She'll be okay." she said encouragingly, pulling on Robin's arm.   
  


"Go on," Faith said, "I'll be fine. Just keep the covers warm," she added.   
  


Buffy pulled again and Robin reluctantly followed.   
  


Spike remained in the door for a moment regarding Angel, Faith, Wesley and Giles. "I'll stay outside in case you need me," he offered.   
  


Wesley regarded Angel for a moment, then replied to Spike, "Very well."   
  


Spike gave a small salute with the tips of two fingers to his forehead, then slouched out of the door, closing it behind him.   
  
  
  


Wesley looked at Angel and said, "You need to help him feed."   
  


Angel nodded, then climbed onto the bed next to Connor. He eased Connor up into a sitting position against the head of his bed. "Son," he said in a gentle voice. "Can you hear me?" he asked.   
  


Connor's eyes opened slightly, "Yeah," he said weakly.   
  


"We're going to make you better, but to do that we're going to need you to feed."   
  


Connor asked, "On what?"   
  


Angel licked his lips uncertainly. "You need to have human blood."   
  


"I can't . . . " Connor protested. "It's wrong. You told me so."   
  


"I know I did, but if you don't you might die."   
  


"But . . . "   
  


"No buts, son. You have to do this."   
  


"C'mon tiger," Faith said, "You're not going to hurt my feelings, are you?"   
  


"I don't want to hurt you," Connor protested, "You're my friend."   
  


"Then let me be your friend," Faith said, clasping Connor's hands, "Don't deny me the opportunity to save your life. After all what's a little blood between friends?"   
  


Connor threw himself out of Angel's arms. "I'd rather die," he said, "I'll never drink human blood. I'm not going to be a monster."   
  


"If you don't, Dawn might die," Giles said unexpectedly.   
  


Connor looked at him. "Dawn . . . "   
  


Giles nodded, "We couldn't stop Caleb from taking her. We have no idea where he took her. We need you. Dawn needs you."   
  


"I don't understand . . . "   
  


Giles looked up at Angel. "I don't either, but I have a feeling that the two of you are linked. If we lose you, we may very well lose Dawn as well."   
  


"Okay," Connor reluctantly said, sitting up against his pillows with Angel's help.   
  


Wesley moved aside, allowing Faith to sit next to Connor on the edge of the bed. She craned her neck, offering it to the young man. "Ready whenever you are, C.B."   
  


Connor's blue eyes deepened into gold as his teeth lengthened into vampiric fangs. He leaned in close to Faith, close enough to sense the blood coursing through her neck. Suddenly he roughly pushed her away. Crying, he buried his head in his pillows. "I'll kill you," he said to Faith, "It's hopeless."   
  


Faith roughly pulled him around, "Look at me," she said grimly, "I'm not going to allow you to wimp out on me. Do it, damn it!" She ran a fingernail down her neck, leaving a thin trail of blood. "For Dawn," she said quietly.   
  


Connor turned his head away, unbidden tears silently flowed down his cheeks. He looked at Angel who grimly nodded.   
  


"We don't have all day," Faith remarked.   
  


Connor roughly grabbed her, burying his teeth into her neck. Faith gasped, smiled, then suddenly gasped again. There was pain, but also pleasure, almost a sexual pleasure in the letting go to another. She felt an unusual peace descend on her. Above the rush of her own blood in her ears she could hear shouting.   
  


"He's taking too much!" Giles shouted.   
  


Wesley said, "Just a bit longer. Connor's getting stronger."   
  


"He's killing her," Giles argued. "Pull him off now! Angel. Now!"   
  


Faith felt herself falling. The world around her was starting to turn grey. She could feel her life flowing into Connor. The trickle had become a torrent. Suddenly her instincts for survival took over. She began beating at Connor's back in panic. Wide eyed, she watched Angel as he struggled with the young man.   
  


"I can't pull him off!" Angel shouted helplessly. "He's too strong. I could wind up with her throat being torn out if I pull too hard!"   
  


Connor was holding her as if he would never let go. At least not until he had drained every drop of her life's blood. She beat at him, but it was no use. She was getting too weak. "Connor . . . " she pleaded in a voice gone paper thin, "Please stop."   
  


"No more!" Connor said, pulling himself away in a violent shudder.   
  


Angel gathered his son into his arms. "It's all right, son, it's all right," he said quietly as the young man cried against his chest. After while Connor calmed and fell asleep, still in Angel's arms.   
  


Wesley came over to Angel and checked Connor, "He's going to be all right. All he needs now is rest."   
  


Angel nodded, then glanced over to where Giles was holding Faith, "How is she?" he asked.   
  


"Five by five," Faith said as she confidently gave a thumbs up gesture before collapsing against Giles.   
  


Giles pressed his glasses up against his nose. "I believe she will be fine. If someone will help me take her to her room."   
  


"Glad to help, mate," Spike said, putting out his cigarette before dropping it into his pocket.   
  
  
  


Robin stalked after Spike and Giles as they helped Faith back to their room. She gave Robin a weak grin as he helped her into the bed.   
  


"Faith . . . " he began.   
  


"Sorry," she said, "I'm afraid there's going to be no whoopee tonight. I'm feeling a little peaked."   
  


"That's not it, Faith," Robin said firmly. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?"   
  


"Lighten up, Lover," Faith said as she slid deeper under the bedcovers. "I'm feeling a little drained."   
  


"Drained? My God, he could have killed you,"   
  


"He didn't," Faith retorted.   
  


"I am ordering you to never try that kind of thing again."   
  


"Order? Who the Hell do you think you are? I'm a freakin' Slayer. I can do whatever the hell I want. When I want. I don't have to get permission from anybody. Especially you."   
  


"But. You don't understand . . . "   
  


"No, it's you who don't understand. Angel's my friend. He helped me out when I was going through some really heavy stuff. The least I could do was help his son."   
  


"But you could have died . . . "   
  


"No, he could have died."   
  


Robin turned away from Faith. "I don't want to lose you," he said very softly. "I worry when you put yourself in danger."   
  


"I'm a Slayer. That's my job. You know that. Your mother was a Slayer."   
  


"And because of that she died," Robin responded in a harsh broken voice.   
  


"I know," Faith said gently. "I can't help being what I am. If you can't accept that . . . "   
  


Robin turned to face her, "What if I can't?"   
  


"Your decision, baby." Faith threw the covers over her head. "Now if you don't mind, I'm getting some sleep."   
  


Sighing, Robin walked over to Faith. He placed a hand gently on her blanket-covered shoulder. "I love you," he said. Then he shut off the light and walked to the door.   
  


Faith's muffled voice floated out from the covers. "I love you, too."   
  
  
  


Robin quietly pressed the door closed behind him. His face turned grim. Even if he couldn't get through to Faith, maybe he could give Angel a piece of his mind.   
  


Robin met Buffy as she was coming out of Connor's room. "Is Angel still in there?" he asked.   
  


"Yeah," she said. "Connor's asleep right now. Angel told me that he's going to be okay."   
  


"Good," Robin said, "I have something to say to Angel."   
  


Buffy frowned, not liking the tone of his voice. "I don't think now's a good time."   
  


"I don't care."   
  


"I do."   
  


"I'm going in there, whether you like it or not."   
  


Buffy's face settled into a stubborn scowl. "I could stop you," she said, "But I don't want to create a scene right now." Pressing the door open for Robin to pass, she said bitterly, "I hope you get what you want."   
  


Buffy didn't even give Robin the satisfaction of slamming the door behind him. It closed with only a slight click. All the lights in the room were dimmed. Angel sat on the bed with Connor in his arms, stroking his son's soft hair. Angel was humming barely above a whisper what Robin recognized as an old Irish lullaby. Ashamed, Robin saw that the vampire's face was damp with tears.   
  


Angel looked at him in question. "Need something?" he asked.   
  


Robin shook his head, "No. Uh, how's Connor?"   
  


"He's resting now," Angel said, pulling the covers up higher over his son, "It was the hardest thing I have ever asked him to do. He said he would have rather died . . . "   
  


"Oh," Robin said uneasily.   
  


Angel blinked a few times as if trying to organize enough thoughts to say something, finally he said into the uncomfortable silence, "How's Faith?"   
  


"She's going to be fine," Robin shrugged, trying to make things lighter, "You know how Slayers are."   
  


Angel nodded, "I know what you mean." A slight wry smile glimmered for a moment. "I don't envy you."   
  


"Uh, well, I can see you some time alone with your son. Goodnight," Robin said, as he opened the door.   
  


Angel said in reply, "Thanks for understanding."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Arms crossed against her chest, Buffy greeted Robin just outside the door. "So, how did your talk go?"   
  


Robin sighed, "Have you ever wanted to kick yourself?"   
  


"That well, huh."   
  


"Yeah, that well."   
  


"I heard that you were arguing with Faith . . . "   
  


"How'd you hear about that?"   
  


"Spike."   
  


"Figures."   
  


"You're going to have to learn that you can never win a fight with Faith. It only makes her madder."   
  


"I noticed."   
  


Buffy gave Robin a smile that brightened the darkened hallway, and gave him a small peck on the cheek. "Sweet dreams."   
  


Robin shuffled back to the room he was sharing with Faith. He spotted Spike leaning against the wall. He was nearly invisible in the dark except for the light of his cigarette. "Thanks for the help, Spike," Robin growled.   
  


"Anytime, mate," Spike responded, giving him a thumbs up and a big grin.   
  


  
  



	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two   
  
  
  


I   
  


"Xander!" Fred said cheerily as she burst into his room, "Get up, already! I have an early Christmas present for you!"   
  


"Awww, mommy, can't I sleep a little longer," Xander moaned from under his covers, "I don't want to go to school today."   
  


"Xander!" Fred repeated, roughly pulling his covers off, "I got something to show you."   
  


"Show me later."   
  


"C'mon. You'll like it. You'll even love it."   
  


"I'll love it just as much later."   
  


"C'mon . . . "   
  


Xander shot a bleary eyed glance at the clock on his bed table. "6:30," he groaned, "How the hell are you so cheery this early in the freakin' morning?"   
  


"Espresso," Fred said, trying to pull Xander out of his bed, "Lots of Espresso. I'll give you some if you come with me to the lab."   
  


Finally relenting, Xander said as he got to his feet, "All right, but it had better be good."   
  


"It's better than good. It's great."   
  


"I'll believe it when I see it."   
  


"That's it exactly. You'll see."   
  


Xander shook his head, indicating his Scooby-Doo boxers, "Can I at least put on my pants?"   
  


Fred sighed as if much put upon, "If you must."   
  


"I must," he said, reaching for his pants.   
  
  
  


Xander stumbled into the laboratory behind Fred who was nearly dancing with excitement. "Gary," she said, "Show Xander what he have for him."   
  


Gary brought out a glass beaker that had something floating in it. Xander looked into the murky fluid. "Gross, it's an eye," he said with distaste.   
  


"Yeah, It's yours. Or at least it will be. All we need to do is make sure we have matched the color of your other eye and we'll be all set to install it."   
  


Fred lifted the beaker up near Xander's face and considered the color of the floating eye. "It's perfect," she said happily as she set it back down on the bench top.   
  


"How do think you are going to get that thing in this?" he asked, pulling off his eyepatch and pointing at the empty eye socket.   
  


"Hi!" Willow said, coming in from behind him and finding a perch on a nearby table.   
  


"We're using a combination of magic, supplied by Willow," Fred explained, pointing to Willow who waved at him with a delighted grin, "And technology."   
  


"Right," Xander said skeptically. "Are you sure you didn't put a little something extra in your espresso this morning?"   
  


"No," Willow said, "We've been working on it all night. There's nothing to it."   
  


"Right," Xander said again. "Could I have something a little stronger than espresso?"   
  


"Don't be silly," Fred said with a laugh. "Here," she said, pulling out a chair, "Sit down and we'll get started."   
  


She handed the beaker to Willow who sat it in her lap.   
  


"Uh," Xander said uneasily, "Shouldn't there be some kind of pentagram on the floor or something?"   
  


"Nope," Willow answered, "It's all very simple. Doesn't involve demons or anything like that." She took a deep breath as her light green eyes turned blue-black. "The words to this spell are all sub-vocal," she explained. "You won't hear or feel a thing except for a slight pop at the end. Ready?" she asked.   
  


"Yeah," Xander replied, steeling himself.   
  


The eye in the beaker began to rise slowly into the air as Willow's lips moved in the spell. It traveled through the air until it was level with Xander's empty eye socket. Then it turned until the sheath of muscles and nerves faced him. 

With a triumphant smile, Willow said, "Bibbity, Bobbity, Boo," And blew across her fingertips, spreading what appeared suspiciously like stardust.   
  


The eye popped into the eye socket as neatly as if it was his own. He gasped at the sudden sight. Then said, "I thought the spell was all silent."   
  


Willow's smile became even more radiant at her success. "I thought it would add a little something."   
  
  
  
  
  


Angel walked into the Wolfman and Hart library to find Giles and Wesley deep in study over a pile of books. Buffy stood behind Giles, looking over his shoulder. Lorne sat nearby in an overstuffed leather chair nursing a Bloody Mary.   
  


Buffy looked up and asked, "How's Connor doing?"   
  


"He's feeling better. He had a little something to eat, but I ordered him to stay in bed . . . "   
  


"Ordered," Lorne said over the piece celery he was nibbling on, "Connor must still not be feeling very well if he actually obeyed an order."   
  


Angel shrugged with a half smile. "Maybe ordered was too strong a word. Let's just say that after falling on his butt when he tried to get out of bed, he sort of saw things my way."   
  


"Smart boy," Lorne commented, "And where's our favorite bleached blonde vampire?"   
  


"I told him to watch over Connor in case he needed something."   
  


Buffy frowned thoughtfully, "And he actually did what you told him?"   
  


Angel sighed, "Okay, it seems like I can't get anything past anybody this morning. Spike volunteered."   
  


"Sounds better," Buffy commented. "Spike seems to have a soft spot for your son."   
  


"More like a soft spot in his head," Angel replied uncharitably. "Where's everybody else?"   
  


Buffy checked her watch and replied, "It's only 7:30. Most everybody's still in bed. Faith never gets out of bed before noon anyway and Robin's keeping her company. And of course you know Cordelia . . . "   
  


"Another person who's not fond of getting up in the morning," Angel agreed. "What about Fred, Willow and Xander?"   
  


"Last I heard they were working on some kind of project," Wesley supplied looking up from his book.   
  


"I have an eye!" Xander shouted bursting into the library. "I have two freakin' eyes."   
  


"Oh, cool," Buffy said, pulling out a heavy book, "Now you can help us do some research."   
  


"Well," Xander said, miffed, "Let's not all congratulate me at once."   
  


Buffy smiled, "Sorry, Xander. I didn't mean it. I'm glad you have new eye. That black patch was starting to creep me out. I kept on expecting you to starting saying ahoy, mateys and stuff like that."   
  


"Gee, thanks," Xander replied. He grabbed a book with a sigh. "At least now I have two eyes to read with," he said, settling down into a chair.   
  


"Where's Willow and Fred?" Giles asked Xander.   
  


"They're still in the laboratory," he answered, "Willow said that they're going to use the Wolfman and Hart database on its computer to see if they can find anything on Caleb."   
  


"Ah," Wesley said, "Here it is."   
  


"What?" Giles asked.   
  


"The pendant that Caleb was wearing. I thought I had seen it before," Wesley answered, opening the book wider to show everyone the picture in it. "It's the symbol of the Egyptian god, Set. He was also known as Seth, Setekh, Setesh and so on. He was the god of chaos, if not outright hostility . . . "   
  


"Ooh, he sounds mean," Buffy commented.   
  


"Indeed, he does," Wesley agreed, "Now this is most interesting," he said, delving more into the book's text. "It appears that he was associated with thunder, stormy skies and foreign lands. And in his human form was depicted as having white skin and red hair."   
  


"That is odd," Giles commented, "Egyptian usually illustrated male characters in their painting as having brown skin and black hair."   
  


"That Set guy almost sounds like Anya's old boyfriend, Olaf," Xander commented.   
  


"Olaf was from a northern Germanic tribe," Giles said, "That is thousands of miles, and centuries away from ancient Egypt. I doubt that has anything with our problem at hand."   
  


"Okay," Xander said, "I was just trying to be helpful."   
  
  
  


"So what does this have to do with Caleb?" Buffy asked.   
  


Wesley frowned thoughtfully, "I'm not sure. Most likely Caleb has been brought back for some purpose and was given the pendant to serve that purpose."   
  


"That's very helpful, Wesley," Angel said, "Do you mind explaining it in a little more detail. Maybe something we might all understand?"   
  


"Quite frankly," Wesley replied, "I have no idea. All I can say is that the pendant is very likely the source of Caleb's power. If we can get it away from him, we may be able to defeat him."   
  


"But how?" Buffy asked. "He has my sister. Why did he take her?"   
  


Wesley studied the book a little more, "Ah, here it is. There is a prophecy about a key that can bring about a golden future for all mankind. If the key is destroyed, the world will be engulfed in an endless winter."   
  


"Key . . . " Buffy said thoughtfully. "Could that be Dawn?"   
  


Wesley nodded, "Perhaps."   
  


"That still doesn't tell us anything about how to find Dawn, or how to destroy Caleb," Buffy said.   
  


"There is more," Wesley said, returning to the book, "Ah," he finally said, "It mentions something about a vampire born with a soul. Most interesting . . . hmm, it says something about the union of the souled vampire and the key."   
  


"Good, or bad?" Buffy asked.   
  


"I couldn't really say," Wesley said.   
  


"Angel," Buffy cried in feigned exasperation, "Make him play fair. I'm tired of all these prophecies. Can't they once say anything straight out. My brain hurts."   
  


Angel sighed, "Is there anything else in there that help us?"   
  


Wesley shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. And since Cordelia can only see into the future when it strikes the powers-that-be, there is no telling if we will get any help from that quarter. Those powers are most unpredictable, and like these prophecies likely to be vague at best."   
  


"Perhaps if I read Buffy," Lorne volunteered, "I might be able to help you get a line on where our little lost lamb has gone to."   
  


"Read?" Buffy asked.   
  


"Sure, cupcake," Lorne answered, "Just sing me a little song, and I'll be able to get a line on your future."   
  


Buffy nodded. Then smiled wanly, "The last time I sang it was under a magical spell. I don't know how good it'll be now."   
  


"Don't worry," Lorne said kindly, "I'm sure you'll do just fine, with or without magic. Just think of Dawn."   
  


"I haven't thought of anything else since last night."   
  


Lorne nodded, then closed his eyes, "Sing."   
  


"Silent night, Holy night," Buffy began. She sang for several minutes, her voice high and sweet, filled with longing.   
  


No one spoke after she had finished. Lorne finally opened his eyes. "You did great. Sang like an angel . . . "   
  


"Thanks," Buffy replied in a muted mood.   
  


"So," Angel pressed, "What did you see?"   
  


"I saw a church. One of those big old gothic type monstrosities people used to build. It's empty. No pews, nothing. Probably one of those ones that nobody goes too anymore. All of the windows have been boarded up, but I do see some stained glass, maybe of saints or no, now that I think of it, it looks like they might be showing the virtues like faith, hope, charity, you know."   
  


"Do you have any idea where it might be?" Angel asked.   
  


"Haven't a clue. L.A.'s a big city. Could be anywhere."   
  


Angel stood up. "At least we're a little further along than we were before. Wesley , I want you set up search teams to cover the city as thoroughly as possible. Xander, I want you to go with him and Giles and help out with the search."   
  


"Now wait a minute," Xander protested, "Since when have I started taking orders from you. Just because you're now the head of some big shot organization doesn't mean I have to do with what you say."   
  


"Fine," Angel replied. "Stay here then." He turned to go with Wesley and Giles following him.   
  


"Fine," Xander said, "I will." He looked at Buffy who was watching him closely, "Buffy . . . "   
  


"Go with them," she said, "We need your help."   
  


"I know. It's just that . . . "   
  


"I understand, but we have to all work together. This is Angel's city. It's a lot bigger than Sunnydale. He knows what he's doing."   
  


"Okay, Buffy, I'll work with Angel, but I'm only doing this for you and for Dawn. Angel can take a flying leap at my big toe for all I care."   
  


"Thanks," Buffy said, giving Xander a hug, "I appreciate it."   
  


Buffy waited until Xander had left the library before heading for her own room. Once in her room she went through her sports bag, pulling out a small crossbow and several wooden bolts.   
  


"What'cha doing, Buff?" Faith asked, coming into Buffy's room.   
  


"I'm going to find Dawn."   
  


"Alone?"   
  


"Yeah. The others are working with Angel. I can move faster alone."   
  


"With a busted arm?"   
  


"Sure," Buffy replied. "It's not that bad. It's almost all healed."   
  


"How many pain killers did you take?"   
  


"None. I swear," Buffy replied.   
  


"Yeah, every damn day."   
  


Buffy gave Faith a dirty look. "You're not going to stop me," she said.   
  


"Wouldn't think of it, Buff. Just wondering if you needed a hand. Or an arm."   
  


"Oh, funny," Buffy replied. "Think you're up to it?"   
  


"Sure, once the floor decides to stay where it belongs."   
  


Buffy regarded Faith for a moment, suddenly noticing how tightly the other Slayer was holding on to the door knob. "Maybe next time."   
  


"You sure?"   
  


Buffy tilted her head looking at Faith. "I think you lost a tad too much blood."   
  


Faith shrugged, "I can get along just fine."   
  


"Then take your hand off the door knob and walk to me," Buffy said doubtfully crossing her arms across her chest, wincing as she did it.   
  


"Sure." Faith took her hand off the door knob. She wavered for a few moments before quickly catching herself on the doorjamb. "Uh, Buff, I think I might hang around here for a while. You know, in case Dawn finds her way back here."   
  


Buffy nodded. "Good idea. You do that."   
  
  
  
  
  


Spike walked into Connor's room, carrying a covered tray. "How are you doing, Pup?"   
  


Connor tossed the tv remote to the end of his bed. "Fine," he replied. "I'm bored stiff watching the TV. There's nothing on but a bunch of talk shows. I never knew how twisted people could be. It makes me feel like I'm more normal than they are." He slumped under his covers, grumbling, "I'd rather be looking for Dawn."   
  


Spike sat on the side of Connor's bed, "I know what you mean those TV shows. Being a vampire is almost normal compared to some of those blokes."   
  


"How's the search going for Dawn?" Connor asked.   
  


"Just fine," Spike said cynically, "Angel's got everybody organized and all that. Working in quadrants and teams, stuff like that. I think the bugger's gone insane with the straight life. I gotta admit that I miss the old moody, broody Angel of the old days. Nothing like living in an old crypt, if you ask me. These modern glass buildings give me the willies."   
  


Spike pulled the metal cover off the tray, "Look here, I got you something. Here," he said, pointing to a sandwich, "is roast beef, rare, the only way to make it. Personally, I prefer a bit of horse radish to go with it, but I don't know about you, so I had the chef put it on the side. I also got you some chips. You Yanks call them French fries. Not that I can see what's so French about them, but anyway. I also have some soda for you. Oh, and this," he added taking out a thermos and pouring the red liquid into a mug on the tray.   
  


"That's blood," Connor said, dubiously.   
  


"Right you are, mate. Your old man said you have to have some to help you get your strength up."   
  


"I'm not drinking it. I'm never going to drink blood again."   
  


Spike lifted the mug up and sniffed it. He scowled. He forced a broad grin. "Mmm, good stuff. It'll make you grow up big and strong just like your old man."   
  


"Gee, just what I want," Connor replied, pushing the offered cup away.   
  


"Now, I admit it isn't as sweet as human blood, but you'd be amazed at what these Wolfman and Hart lab blokes can do with ordinary pig's blood. You can hardly tell the difference."   
  


"I'm never drinking blood again, period. Human, animal, whatever."   
  


"If you don't drink it, you'll get very sick. Trust me it's not fun. I've been through it." Noticing the stubborn scowl on Connor's face, Spike continued, "Look, you want to help us rescue Dawn from this Caleb. Right?"   
  


Connor nodded, still frowning.   
  


"All right then. There's no way you're going to get your strength up unless you drink some blood."   
  


Connor glared at him, still not saying a word.   
  


"You tried getting out of bed lately?"   
  


Connor's frown deepened, but he stayed silent.   
  


"Fell flat on your bum again, didn't you?"   
  


Connor didn't reply, only glared.   
  


"That's what I thought," Spike said. He handed Connor the mug, "Drink it all up like a good lad and I'll give you some candy."   
  


"If I drink it, will you go away?"   
  


"Anything you want, mate."   
  


Connor quickly drank from the mug, not putting it down until it was completely empty. The last thing he was going to admit to Spike was that not only did it make him feel better, but that he also enjoyed its taste. "I did it, now go away."   
  


"Sure, anything you say," Spike said, getting to his feet.   
  


"Wait a minute," Connor said before Spike reached the door. "Can you tell me about Dawn?"   
  


"You sure you got the time?" Spike asked sarcastically as he checked his watch. "I think there's some good soaps on the telly right now. Or how about Jerry Springer?"   
  


"Oh, funny," Connor growled at Spike. "Are you going to tell me or are you just going to stand there acting like a door stop?"   
  


"Well, if you're going to be that way, I think I have something better to do with my time. My favorite soap, Passions, is going to be on any minute."   
  


"All right," Connor whined, "I'm sorry. Sit down and tell me about Dawn."   
  


"Sounds good," Spike said, satisfied. "Now what can I tell you about little Bit . . . "   
  


"Is it true that she's not really human? That she's some kind of key?"   
  


"Well, yes and no. Physically, she's human. Everybody even remembers her growing up from the time she was a baby. But, she's also something else. Nobody really knows for sure. Take this key business, for instance. A while back, some crazy goddess called Gloria tried to use Dawn to open a d doorway between a demon dimension and this one. Buffy sacrificed herself to close that doorway and save Dawn."   
  


"I remember hearing about that," Connor said, "But what about now?"   
  


Spike shrugged. "No telling. I've always had a feeling that there's a lot more to that girl than what's obvious. Everybody says she isn't the key anymore. Even she says it, but I don't think so. Not by a long shot. I don't think destiny's done with her yet."   
  


"I see," Connor thoughtfully. "Is she anything like her sister, Buffy? Buffy seems awfully bossy and all."   
  


Spike laughed. "Buffy? Bossy? That's not the half of it, Pup. But that's what she needs to be. She has a lot on her plate, you know. What with taking care of those Slayerettes and then saving the world every time you turn around. A lot of people have had to depend on her. That would put a lot of stress on anyone. Would tend to turn anybody bossy . . . "   
  


"Do you love her?"   
  


"Who?"   
  


"Buffy!"   
  


"Oh, right," Spike said. "I don't know. I think I do. I guess I do. At least I think I did, once." Spike grew thoughtful, the shade of the dreamer, William, showing in his voice, "I don't know if anyone can truly say they love Buffy. Or at least not in the way she deserves. When I got that bloody chip in my head, all I could think of was how to destroy her without getting my brains blasted out of my head by the bloody thing. I tried to do it by dragging her down to my level. Came close to working too, especially after she came back from the dead all changed. Somewhere along the way though, I began to really love her, but I didn't know how to love her. After she rejected me, I went through a trial by ordeal as a way to get back at her. And what happened? I got my bloody soul back."   
  


"And then?"   
  


"And then I wound up saving the whole bloody world." Spike grimaced for a moment. "I don't how that girl does it. She brings out the best in all of us, including me and your old man."   
  


"Nice story," Connor commented.   
  


Spike regarded Connor very seriously. "If Dawn is anything like her sister, you're a damn lucky man."   
  
  
  


"Wow,"Connor said thoughtfully, "I hope she does the same for me, too."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


II   
  
  
  


Buffy heard the footsteps behind her for several blocks. She recognized them, but didn't turn around. She would rather be alone. Knowing that he wouldn't give up following her, she finally turned around.   
  


"Remember the first time you tried following me?" she challenged.   
  


Angel smiled crookedly. "If I remember right, you kicked my ass."   
  


"I could still do it."   
  


Angel's eyes swept down Buffy's slender figure, "With a broken arm?"   
  


"I've done it before."   
  


"Would it make you feel better?"   
  


Buffy sighed as she flopped down in nearby bus stop bench. "No." She sighed again as she gazed up into the sky. There were no stars. Only a sullen moon penetrated the hazy night sky. "It doesn't feel like Christmas," she finally commented as Angel sat down beside her.   
  


"It never feels like Christmas in L.A.," he said.   
  


Buffy nodded. "I wondered what it would feel like to have a normal Christmas. You know, snow, Christmas carols, dashing through the snow and all that."   
  


Angel nodded thoughtfully, but didn't say a word.   
  


"I'm so tired of all this," Buffy continued. "I'm tired of always fighting. Of always having to save the world. Just once I'd like to have my old life back before I became a layer. I didn't have anything to worry about except what I was going to wear the next day. I miss wandering the mall, hanging out with my friends."   
  


Angel placed an arm around Buffy's shoulder, "I know how you feel. Sometimes the responsibility gets too great."   
  


"I wish I could just run away," Buffy said. She shook her head. "Even that didn't work out when I tried it once. I still wound up saving a bunch of people."   
  


"That's because you can't run away from yourself."   
  


"But I don't want to be me. Or rather I do want to be me. I want to be plain old Buffy Summers. No super powers. No Slayer. Just regular Buffy. I want a normal life."   
  


"It's not going to happen," Angel said solemnly. "No matter how much we wish, we have to play out the destiny we've been handed. Everybody does, from the poorest man to the richest. We deal with the hand we've been given the best we can."   
  


"I don't want to," Buffy protested, burying her face into his chest. He had no heartbeat, no body heat to offer her, but he could still give her shelter from her fears. For a few moments all she could do was sob hopelessly. After a while, she quieted, resting against him.   
  


Finally she looked up at him with tear-reddened eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, wiping the remaining tears away in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to do that. I don't know what came over me."   
  


"I do," Angel said. "Have you ever talked to anyone about how you feel?"   
  


"No," Buffy replied, shaking her head.   
  


"Why not?"   
  


"I don't know." Buffy gave a little laugh that sounded harsh in Angel's ears. "That's what everybody complains about. That I don't tell them. That I don't open up to them. Riley left because I couldn't open up to him. My mother was angry at me about the whole Slayer thing. Even Willow got on my case about it . . . " 

"But you can talk to me," Angel said.   
  


Buffy nodded.   
  


"Why?"   
  


She shrugged, "Because I love you . . . ?" she ventured. She studied his face for a moment. The aching passion was no longer there in her heart. Somewhere it had died down to an occasional ache of regret, but it didn't hurt anymore. "No," she finally said, "That's not it." She paused thoughtfully. "It's because I trust you."   
  


"And you don't trust the others. Not even Giles."   
  


"I don't know," she said doubtfully. "Maybe I don't trust myself. I guess I'm afraid that if I don't keep it all in, everybody will lose their trust in me. They'll find out that I'm a, a fake . . . I don't know . . . "   
  


Angel tilted Buffy's head toward him. "You are definitely not a fake, Buffy. You're the most genuine person I have ever met. Don't ever be afraid to let the others see that. You have to have faith in them. You have to have the faith that they will do what's right . . . "   
  


"But . . . "   
  


"Buffy, that's the hardest thing I've had to learn since coming out here to L.A. I can't do it all. I need to rely on others. I have to have the faith that they will do their part."   
  


"I don't know if I can," Buffy said doubtfully.   
  


"You can. I know you can."   
  
  
  


"Is pretty lady feeling sad?" said a little voice.   
  


Buffy turned around to see a small girl with long blonde curls. "I have a surprise for you," the little girl said. She giggled and started skipping away.   
  


"Angela, wait," Angel said going after the girl.   
  


"You know her?" Buffy asked following him.   
  


"Yeah," he replied, "She's an angel."   
  


"You're kidding," Buffy said.   
  


"C'mon, Buff. Where's your holiday spirit?" he said as the girl entered a dark alleyway.   
  


"That's my problem," Buffy said. "I can't find it."   
  


Buffy almost ran into Angel's back when he suddenly stopped in his tracks. They had entered an entirely new world. Snow was thick on the ground under their feet and drifting through the air as large, lazy flakes. Buffy's breath formed clouds in the ice-crisp air. All around them was a strange glowing light that didn't seem to come from anywhere.   
  


A loud cheerful voice boomed out, "I think you have found it, my child."   
  


"No way," Buffy said in disbelief. "First Dracula, not Santa Claus. I can't believe my luck. Wow!"   
  


Santa's laughter rolled around them like joyous thunder. "My child you are most fortunate indeed if you have had the chance to meet the legendary Prince of Darkness."   
  


Buffy shrugged offhandedly "He wasn't that hot."   
  


"I hope I do not disappoint you as well," Santa Claus said as he motioned for Buffy to come closer. Angel hung back, watching curiously. Santa gestured to him, "Come, my son. It is a joy to see you again."   
  


"Why are you here?" Angel asked. "Can you help us find Dawn?"   
  


"Yes and no," Santa replied. "I cannot give you direct help. That is not my nature, but I can give you gifts that will help you in your quest." He made a small wave with his hand and a small box appeared at their feet. It was wrapped in shiny blue paper decorated with stars, moons and globes. "The first will help you find your way. The second," he continued, again waving his hand as another box appeared wrapped in blue Hanukkah paper covered with menorahs appeared, "Will light your way. Your friend, Willow, will know what to do with it when the time is right. The last," again he waved his hand as the last gift, a flat box decorated in clocks and doors appeared, "must not be opened until Christmas day."   
  


"But," Buffy protested, "Can't you give more to work on?"   
  


"No, my child, that I cannot do. It is up to you to find your own Christmas miracle." Santa placed a finger beside his nose and nodded. As he faded away, he gave one further hint, "Remember, only Faith can save you."   
  


Buffy's jaw dropped. "What?" she said turning to Angel. "What did he mean about that? What's so special about Faith? What in the world does he mean, only Faith can save us."   
  


"I don't know," Angel said, "I'm as puzzled as you are."   
  


"Why can't these magical types ever come out and say what they mean? They always use double talk and hints and riddles. Why can't they for once just come out with something straight, like, say, take the pointy thing and stick it in the bad guy." Buffy slapped Angel's arm in frustration. "Arrghhh," she growled as she stomped out of the alleyway. She turned back to Angel who stood where he was rubbing his arm. "Are you coming or not?" she demanded.   
  


"I don't know," Angel said, "Are you going to hit me again?"   
  


"Arrgghh," Buffy screamed to the sky before stomping away.   
  


"Okay," Angel muttered under his breath as he followed Buffy, "Since when have Slayers began growling . . . "   
  
  
  


  
  


III   
  
  
  


Connor looked over to Spike who was comfortably sprawled in the chair next to his bed. "That was a good movie," he said, turning off the TV with his remote.   
  


"Yeah," Spike said, "I always like 'It's A Wonderful Life'. It makes you wonder about how things can be different if life took a different path." Spike reached over for the remote. "Miracle on 34th Street is on TNT," he said. "I always like watching that one, too."   
  


"Naw," Connor said, "I'm feeling kind of tired."   
  


Spike turned the TV on, "I'll put the sound down real low so as not to disturb you."   
  


"Couldn't you see it in your own room? The glare from the TV will keep me awake."   
  


"Love to, Pup, but your Dad told me to stay right here and keep on you."   
  


Great, Connor thought. He had other plans for the night besides being babysat by Spike. Finally an idea occurred to him. "Uh, what happened to your coat? Did you forget it at that restaurant?"   
  


"Bugger," Spike said, slapping the heel of his hand to his forehead, "I knew I was missing something. What with worrying about you and all, I forgot all about it."   
  


"It's not too late to pick up tonight. They should be open for at least another hour," Connor offered helpfully.   
  


"Right you are, Pup," Spike said, "But I can't leave you alone. Your Dad said . . . "   
  


"Since when have you begun doing what my father tells you?"   
  


"Since he promised to break all the bones in my body and burn them," Spike answered.   
  


"Really?" Connor teased.   
  


"What do you think?" Spike growled. 

Connor frowned. He had to think of a way out.   
  


"Besides," Spike continued, "I got a soft spot for you, lad. You remind me of myself when I was newly made a vampire. Always needed somebody keeping an eye on me. Wouldn't want you to get it in your head to start wandering around the city and all that."   
  
  
  


"You'd only be gone for a few minutes," Connor suggested. "It's not like I'm in any shape to go wandering around like you said."   
  


Spike considered for a moment. "I don't like leaving you alone. But," he said, weakening, "It's going to be only for a few minutes. Half an hour, tops."   
  


"I heard that they give stuff away when it's not claimed after a few days," Connor said helpfully.   
  


Spike nodded, making up his mind. "All right. I'll do it."   
  


"Good idea," Connor said, trying to hide his smile of triumph.   
  


"Oh, I almost forgot. Your medicine."   
  


"Medicine?"   
  


"Right. It'll help you sleep. Got to get your rest so you can get better."   
  


Damn, Connor thought.   
  


"Here you are," Spike said pouring out a strong painkiller into a spoon and handing it to Connor. "C'mon," he said, "It tastes good. Just like sour cherries."   
  


Connor rolled his eyes, but took the medicine without a word. He grimaced from the medicine's strong taste. "Yummy," he said sarcastically. "Got any poison as a chaser?"   
  


"Sorry, fresh out," Spike replied, matching Connor's sarcasm. "I'll get you some on my way back."   
  


"Ha, ha," Connor said. He was already starting to feel drowsy.   
  


Spike tucked Connor into his covers. "Rest now. I'll be back in a spot, little Pup," he said with a gentleness that surprised even him.   
  
  
  


Connor floated out of a deep sleep feeling very cold. He pulled his covers up over his ears against the sudden chill, burying himself into them more deeply. He felt his bed move under a weight. It felt like some large animal was crawling up on his bed. What the . . . ? he thought. Above the creaking of his mattress he could hear the gentle chiming of bells. Suddenly a cold wet nose pushed itself under the covers and into his face.   
  


"Ahhhh!" Connor screamed rolling off his bed. He scrambled for a knife in his bed stand. Turning to face his attacker, Connor found instead a white wolf regarding him solemnly with ice blue eyes. Around its thick furred neck was a collar of silver and gold bells and green holly. The wolf shook itself, making the bells ring merrily.   
  


It walked over to Connor who stood dumbstruck in front of the window that had opened while he was sleeping. The wolf stood up on its hind legs, resting its front legs on his shoulders. It looked directly into his eyes and howled mournfully. Connor didn't know what to do, but deciding that the wolf meant him no harm, dropped his knife to the ground. The wolf dropped back to all fours and nosed the knife. Then it walked over to the wall where Connor had his favorite weapons displayed. Again the wolf rose to its hind legs. It pawed at the jeweled dagger that Connor had shown Dawn.   
  


Connor lifted the dagger from its mount. He turned it around in his hand. It meant something to the wolf, but what? The wolf nosed the hilt of the dagger. Connor studied the hilt. On it were the words, Faith, Hope and Love.   
  


The wolf howled, then launched itself through the open window. Connor followed it out and through. The next roof was several floors down, but he was now strong enough to easily follow the wolf with both his eyes and his nose. As he trotted after the wolf, Connor felt the trappings of civilization fall away from him. He was his true self, a creature of the night. The concrete forest of L.A. was his to roam at will.   
  



	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three   
  
  
  


I   
  
  
  


"Did you find anything?" Wesley asked Buffy and Angel, looking up from the situation board in the operations center at Wolfman and Hart.   
  


"Yeah," Buffy said, dropping three packages on the table next to Wesley, "We paid a visit to Santa Claus."   
  


"Santa Claus," Wesley echoed frowning thoughtfully. "Didn't you meet him about a year ago?" he asked Angel.   
  


"Yeah," Angel said, "I guess since we saved his life last year, he decided to help us this year."   
  


"Or maybe because he's nice," Buffy remarked, "You know, jolly and stuff."   
  


"Most likely," Wesley said, "It's because he works for the powers of good just as we do." He looked over the gifts, "So tell me about these," he said.   
  


"Okay," Buffy said, "The first one, this one with the stars, moons and globes, he said will help us find our way. The second one with the Hanukkah paper is supposed to light our way. He said Willow will know what to do with that one. And this last one, the one with the clocks and stuff is not to be opened until Christmas."   
  


"Why don't you open the first one," Angel suggested to Buffy.   
  


Buffy unwrapped the present and found inside an ornate golden compass. "Cool," she said, "Let's see what's in the second gift." She unwrapped it and found a small bottle filled with a liquid. She sniffed it and remarked, wrinkling her nose, "It smells weird."   
  


Wesley took a sniff from the bottle. "It's lamp oil," he said. "Not very much, but it must be important. What about the third present?" he asked.   
  


"I don't know if we should try to open it," Angel said, "I don't think it's a good idea to do something when a spirit tells you not to."   
  


"Still," Wesley said, "It could be important. It is always best to find out about something beforehand. Buffy?"   
  


"I think Angel's right. You know those supernatural types, sometimes it's a good idea to do what they want you to do."   
  


"Oh, well," Wesley said picking up the present, "I'll do it." He tugged at the wrapping paper but it wouldn't tear. "Most odd," he remarked as he grabbed for a pair of scissors. "That is exceptionally strong paper." He tried to cut the paper, but the scissors broke. "Curiouser and curiouser," he said, rotating the package in his hands. "We will have to send it up to the lab for further study."   
  


Angel grabbed the package out of Wesley's hands. "How about we don't. If we're not meant to open the package before Christmas, then let's not do it."   
  


Wesley sighed in exasperation, "If you insist."   
  


"I do."   
  


Buffy picked up the compass and began walking around the room. "These things are supposed to point north, aren't they?"   
  


"Usually," Wesley said.   
  


"But this one isn't pointing north," she remarked as she continued walking around the room. "It keeps on pointing to your situation board. No matter which way I move, it keeps on pointing back to it."   
  


"Bring it closer to the board," Angel said.   
  


She brought it closer and began to move it across the board which showed a map of the city broken up into numbered blocks. "What is on this board?" she asked.   
  


"We sent a number of teams out to search the city in order to find Dawn," Wesley answered, "This is how we keep track of who is where."   
  


Buffy moved the compass until it seemed to keep on pointing to one of the blocks on the board. "Team five," she read, "Do you have anything on them?"   
  


Wesley checked his status reports. "Interesting. Team five is an hour late in reporting in."   
  


"Call them," Angel said.   
  


Wesley made the call, then grim faced, said, "Nothing. It's like they have disappeared off the earth."   
  


"Or they're dead," Angel said. "Get us a map of that area. I'm betting that's where we'll find Caleb."   
  


Giles walked into the room carrying a large leather book. "I'm glad to see that you have returned. I have been doing some further research on Caleb. If you remember correctly, the Ax of the Slayers was the only weapon that could kill him. Unfortunately we don't have it any more because we left it with the new Watcher's council for study. However, I have found there may be one more weapon that might destroy him."   
  


"What is it?" Angel asked.   
  


"It's something called the Dagger of Eternal Light. Unfortunately we might have some trouble finding it in the short time that we have."   
  


"Where was it last seen?" Angel asked.   
  


Giles checked the book. "It says here that was stolen from a Russian church called Saint Nicholas in the mid-1800's."   
  


Angel looked over Giles' shoulder at the picture in the book, "Looks familiar," he said. "I was in Russia about that time as Angelus. We took a dagger from one of our victims that looked something like that. I gave it to Darla."   
  


"Do you know where it is?"   
  


"Sure, it's in Connor's room. Up on his wall last time I looked."   
  


"Then we must get it immediately," Giles said, decisively slamming the book closed.   
  
  
  


  
  


"Connor!" Angel exclaimed in shock. The room's window was wide open and Connor was nowhere to be seen.   
  


"Spike!" he shouted, to the empty air, "Where the hell are you?"   
  


"You don't need to be so loud, mate," Spike said calmly, as he walked into the room, "I'm right behind you."   
  


"Where's Connor?" Angel demanded, lifting Spike up by the collar of his coat.   
  


Spike looked into the empty room. "Last time I saw him he was in bed. I'd given him some of the medicine you wanted me to give him."   
  


"So where is he now?"   
  


"In the can maybe?" Spike remarked as he pulled himself from Angel's grasp.   
  


"Buffy?" Angel said.   
  


"I'll check," Buffy said, quickly heading toward the hall bathroom.   
  


"Where were you?" Angel demanded of Spike.   
  


Spike straightened his coat, "I had to get me coat."   
  


"You left Connor alone . . . "   
  


"He was asleep."   
  


"Do you see him bed there?" Angel growled.   
  


Spike sauntered to Connor's bed. "Don't look like he is," he said.   
  


"Obviously."   
  


Spike wandered over to the open window. "Bugger," he muttered.   
  


"What?" Angel said, coming beside Spike.   
  


"I think he left through the window."   
  


Angel looked at the rooftops below them. "It's a long way down." He sighed, "Unfortunately, he could do it."   
  


"But why?" Wesley said coming up behind them to look through the window.   
  


"For Dawn, of course. He's out to rescue her from Caleb," Angel said.   
  


"Uh, Angel," Giles said pointing to an empty space on Connor's wall, "Is this where the dagger was?"   
  


"Yeah," Angel answered.   
  


"Then I fear Connor has it with him."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


II   
  


Connor ran easily at the side of the great white wolf through the dark streets and alleys of the city. The bells on the wolf's collar chimed softly as they ran. Despite wearing only sweat pants and bandages around his chest, Connor did not feel the night's winter chill. The night was no barrier to him. Like the wolf he could smell the life that the city held, both great and small. One scent above all led him on. It was the scent of strawberries and cinnamon, Dawn's scent, that drew him on.   
  


The wolf slowed as a huge bulk reared up in front of them. It was an old boarded up church. Once faithful prayers had filled it, but that had been a very long time ago. It had also been a very long time since long haired rockers had once shook its foundations as a discotheque. Now it stood abandoned, dominating yet dominated by the defeat of years. It reeked of death.   
  


A man hung impaled on the massive front door. He still breathed.   
  


"Who did this to you?" Connor asked, as he gently removed the spikes holding him to the door.   
  


The man sagged bonelessly in Connor's strong arms. He gasped, "The priest. The mad priest. He let me live."   
  


"Take it easy," Connor said, "Save your strength."   
  


The man shook his head. "The priest gave me a message."   
  


"What message?"   
  


"Your future will be destroyed."   
  


"What does that mean?"   
  


The man shook his head, then fainted. Connor felt for the man's pulse. It was still there, but weak. Connor searched the man and found a Wolfman and Hart communicator on him.   
  


"Report," a voice demanded dryly as Connor toggled the device on.   
  


"Your man is hurt very badly," Connor answered, not identifying himself.   
  


"Who is this?" the voice demanded.   
  


Connor glanced around him. "He's at the Saint Nicholas church on Highland and Christopher," he said, giving the nearest cross streets. "Hurry."   
  


"Who is this?" the voice demanded, "Identify yourself."   
  


Connor toggled the communicator off. He had things to do. He reached for the slightly ajar door, but the wolf began pulling on his pant leg with a soft growl. Then it leaped for the low roof of a nearby building. Connor thought for a moment. He would have preferred to meet Caleb head on; that was the way of the warrior, but he could not take the chance of defeat. Not yet. Not with Dawn's life possibly in the balance. He had to know more before he faced Caleb. He leaped for the roof, landing on light feet next to the wolf.   
  


"You know, you're no fun," he whispered to the wolf.   
  


The wolf whuffed its comment then led the way through stair steps of roofs until they came close to the back wall of the church. From there Connor could see where part of the church's roof had caved in. The wolf leaped for the church's roof and Connor followed. Through the hole Connor could hear Caleb's voice rising and falling as if giving an enthusiastic sermon. Connor looked back for the wolf. It was gone. It had done its job. In its place was a single golden bell. Connor pocketed the bell then slipped through the hole in the roof.   
  


"You know," Caleb said, "This night means so much to me. On this night of all nights, Ah finally get to win. No Slayers, no vampires, and that little boyfriend of yours is likely in a coma by now."   
  


"You're wrong," Dawn bravely retorted, even though she was tied up in an old high-backed chair, "Connor's stronger than you'll ever be."   
  


Wow, Connor thought from his perch high up in the church's rafters, I gotta admit, she's got a lot of guts.   
  


"You really think that, don't you?" Caleb said to Dawn, "But, you little lady, is the one that's wrong. After midnight tonight, the eve of Christmas, your future and everyone's future will be gone."   
  


"What do you mean by that?" Dawn demanded.   
  


"Don't you ever think about your future, little lady? You were destined to give birth to a new generation of champions . . . "   
  


"Me? Children? Think again, buddy. I haven't even thought about kids yet. I'm still a virgin. I'm the only virgin in our group."   
  


"All the better for my purposes," Caleb said. "The sacrifice will be so much the sweeter with a virgin."   
  


"Uh, would not being a virgin, change things?"   
  


Oh, my god, Connor thought, What is wrong with her?   
  


"Nope, not one bit," Caleb answered.   
  


"Oh, okay," Dawn said. Her eyes traveled up to the ceiling. A slight movement caught her eye. "By the way, who am I supposed to have these children with."   
  


"Well, you are a clueless little one, aren't you, little lady?"   
  


"Well? Who is he?"   
  


"According to legend it's supposed to be the son of two vampires, so I guess that means it's your lover boy, Connor."   
  


Oh, shi . . . , Connor thought, almost losing his grip on the rafter. After his last experience with fatherhood, he wasn't sure about ever having children again.   
  


"Really?" Dawn said. "Do you really mean that? I don't know if he's really my type. I've only met him once. You know he's kind of scrawny."   
  


Hey! Connor thought, I'm not that thin. Fred's scrawnier than me. He was seriously thinking about coming down, just to shut Dawn up.   
  


Meanwhile Dawn was thinking, C'mon Connor, get down while I'm distracting this crazy bastard.   
  


Caleb noticed that Dawn's thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. He didn't like not being the center of attention. "Are you even listenin' little lady? I swear you women are all the same. You never listen to your betters."   
  


Better my butt, Dawn thought, Connor . . . save me already.   
  


I'll try, just hold on, Connor thought. Suddenly his eyes grew wide as he realized that there was a link between himself and Dawn.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


III   
  


  
  


The Scoobies and Angel's team had assembled in Angel's office. They had gotten word that a call had come in reporting that a member of one of the search teams was down. They had no idea about the other members of the team or who had called in to Wolfman and Hart. All they knew was that the team was in the area that the magic compass had pointed to. They could not consider it as coincidental that the church was called Saint Nicholas, the same name as the one in Russia where the dagger had been stolen from.   
  


"So we are agreed," Angel said. "We go to the church. Does everyone know what they are to do?"   
  


"I still don't understand why Santa Claus said that only Faith can save us," Willow said.   
  


"Hey!" Faith retorted, "Don't you have any faith in me?"   
  


"That's not it," Willow said, delicately, "It's just that I don't understand. We don't have any real weapons against Caleb. Connor has the dagger that is supposed to kill Caleb, but what your part in it is, I don't know. It's like this bottle of oil. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with it."   
  


"We'll find out when we get there," Angel said. "Wesley, you and Giles stay here. We'll report back in two hours. If we don't, assume the worst and do whatever you can to stop Caleb."   
  


"I'll stay here to keep tabs on things," Lorne volunteered.   
  


"Right," Angel agreed.   
  


"I volunteer to back up ol' green face," Spike said. "I've already saved the world once. That's enough for me."   
  


"No," Angel said firmly, "If it hadn't been for you, we wouldn't be missing my son and the dagger. You're coming with us."   
  


Spike shrugged, "Fine then. Since you put it that way."   
  


Connor began his slow descent to the church's floor when he heard the soft kiss of rubber against asphalt. He scrambled back through the hole in the roof. Three cars had pulled up with their lights off and their engines silent. Ten people stepped out of two of the cars and two men in black suits came out of the third. Even from that distance Connor could smell his father's distinct scent of cinnamon and pine. It made him smile. He wasn't on his own after all. He wouldn't ever admit it to anyone, but it reassured him to know that he wasn't alone in this battle.   
  


Angel looked up at the church's roof. He saw a small figure high up near the peak at the rear. Connor, he thought, catching the boy's spicy citrus scent. Stay there, son.   
  


Connor shook his head, Only for now, he thought before disappearing back through the hole.   
  


Connor, don't. You're too weak, Angel thought, but knew that it was no use. Connor would do whatever he felt he needed to do.   
  


Angel turned to the suited men, a Wolfman and Hart clean up team, "Locate the wounded man and any other casualties," he ordered. "Get them whatever care they need."   
  


The men silently nodded then moved off.   
  
  
  


The Scoobies and Angel's team entered the church. A thin light from the full moon outside filtered through the boarded up windows that lined the church's interior. It did little to relieve the dense shadows that huddled against the walls of the barren church.   
  


"We're going to need more light for the spell," Willow said. "I'll look for some candles."   
  


"Faith, are you ready?"Angel said to the dark-haired Slayer.   
  


"Sure, bring him on," Faith answered, holding a broadsword in her hands.   
  


Willow continued looking for some candles when she came across a woven basket filled with eight simple clay lamps. She considered the amount of oil in the bottle. There was no way it would be enough. Then she remembered the story of the Hanukkah miracle. The oil would be enough.   
  


Suddenly Dawn's voice sliced through the shadows. "It's a trap!" she screamed, "Save yourselves!"   
  


Nearly dropping the basket, Willow whirled around to see that Caleb had appeared in the middle of the church surrounded by six of his minions, the Bringers. Caleb was holding Dawn close by his side, her hands tied behind her back.   
  


Screaming a challenge as she swung the heavy sword, Faith charged Caleb. The pendant on his chest began to glow. He lifted his hand, gestured and Faith found herself flying the length of the church's nave. Faith got to her feet, rubbing her backside. "Owweee!" she exclaimed. "That's going to cost you, you bastard. These are my best leather pants, you jerk!"   
  


Caleb laughed, "So Slayer, you think you can succeed this time?" He gestured to the Bringers, siccing them on the gang.   
  


"As my name is Faith, I am sure as hell going to try!"   
  


"Oh, ye of little Faith," Caleb retorted with a nasty grin, "I fear you do not have Faith enough." He gestured again, a fireball exploding from his hands, "Let's see what you can do with the flames of hell itself."   
  


Faith parried the fireball with the sword, slamming it back to Caleb like a major league pitcher. Continuing to grin, Caleb easily dodged the fireball and sent two others Faith's way. Faith dodged and dancing on the balls of her feet, swung the sword in the air, slicing one of the fireballs in two, while sending the other one in careening flight into the back of one of the Bringers who was trying to throttle Xander. With an unearthly muted scream, the Bringer dissolved into glittering ashes. The split fireball spun on its axis, zooming off in two pieces. One of the pieces sideswiped another of the Bringers, only singing its robes before exploding against the church's stone wall. The other piece narrowly missed Buffy who was fighting a third Bringer.   
  


Taking advantage of Caleb's distraction, Connor leaped for the mad priest, slicing him across the back. Caleb screamed in pain. He drew back a hand from his wound. Dark blood covered it, and the jeweled dagger in Connor's hand. "How dare you attack me, you stupid boy? You shall be punished!" Caleb raged. His pendant was glowing so bright that his face shone as if set aflame. "I shall remove you from the face of the earth!" he screamed, gesturing at Connor.   
  


Connor felt a desert hot wind whip punishingly at him, but he stood his ground. Achingly slowly, holding the dagger before him like a slender shield, Connor advanced on Caleb.   
  


"No!" Caleb screamed. "No more games!" he swept his hands around, blasting open the church's heavy wooden doors. "I am clearing you out now!"   
  


The gang found themselves tumbling through the air like autumn leaves. Startled by the sudden loss of pressure, Connor stumbled to his knees. "Out with you too, boy!" Caleb said, sending the young man tumbling out the doors as well.   
  


Leaving the gang and Connor scattered on the church's stone steps, the doors shut with a finality that sounded like the closing of the gates of hell. Connor threw himself at the doors, but they were sealed tight against his best efforts.   
  


"Well, that went real well," Cordy remarked, brushing the dirt off her clothes. "What're you planning on for an encore, Angel?"   
  


Angel grabbed Connor by the shoulder. "What the hell were you thinking? I told you to stay out of it. You're still too weak!"   
  


"I'm fine!" Connor shot back at him. He roughly pulled his bandages off, "You can see for yourself, Dad. I'm completely healed."   
  


"That's a relief, but how the hell did you get here?" Angel demanded.   
  


"A white wolf came to my room. It led me here and then disappeared."   
  


"What about that dagger?" Angel asked, "Why did you bring it here?"   
  


"The wolf wanted me to," Connor said, handing Angel the dagger.   
  


Angel looked at the dagger. It was the one he had given Darla. It was inscribed with the words, Faith, Hope and Love.   
  


"That's the Dagger of Eternal Light, all right," Spike said, looking at it in Angel's hands. "Darla always had a soft spot for pretty pointy things."   
  


Spike smacked Connor in the shoulder, "You did good, mate."   
  


"Thanks," Connor muttered, rubbing his shoulder.   
  


Angel took off his coat and put it around his son's shoulders. "Don't you ever take chances like that again," he said, the gentle tone of his voice taking the sting out of his words. "I don't want to lose you, again."   
  


"And you won't, Dad," Connor said, putting his arms into the coat, "But you're not going to send me away from this battle. Caleb intends to kill Dawn. He said some crazy stuff about her being the mother of a new generation of champions." Connor withheld the fact that he was supposed to be the father of this new generation. That was something he didn't believe himself. 

"Gee," Willow said, "I think we're going about this the wrong way."   
  


"What do you mean, Will?" Xander asked. "Not that we've been successful so far. It seems like Faith isn't going to be the one to save us after all."   
  


"Hey, jerk off!" Faith angrily retorted, "I tried my best. Besides that was only round one. Let me at him again, and you'll be talking out of the other side of your mouth."   
  


"You don't understand, Faith" Willow insisted as she began to arrange the clay lamps in a circle around them. "You aren't the Faith that will save us."   
  


"Huh?" Faith said, "I don't see any other Faith around. Do you?"   
  


Willow nodded, with a shy laugh, "Actually I do."   
  


"Got hit a little too hard this time, Will?" Cordy smirked.   
  


"No," Willow said, "The Faith we need is not a person. It's the Faith we have in each other." She gestured for the knife from Angel. "See here," she said, "It says, Faith, Hope and Love. It means us. We are the ones to save us. These lamps I brought from the church will lead the way." She pulled out the bottle of oil, "I want everyone to make a circle and hold hands. I'll fill the lamps with this oil and light it," she explained.   
  


"That's not enough oil," Cordy remarked.   
  


Willow smiled benevolently, "That's the miracle. It'll be enough," she assured them.   
  


Willow began pouring the oil into the lamps and as she said, each lamp was completely filled. She lit each one until they were surrounded by a circle of light.   
  


"Hey!" Xander exclaimed, "We're doing the Slayer circle again."   
  


"Right," Willow said, "Just like before we're going to focus our energies through Buffy." Seeing that Faith was going to protest, Willow added, "It's nothing against you, Faith, it's just that we've done it before with Buffy and it worked."   
  


"Buffy," Willow said, "This time I want you to stand in the middle of the circle. You'll act as the focus of our power."   
  


Buffy nodded her agreement and stepped into the center as the gang closed a circle around her.   
  


Willow began to chant in a low voice that grew steadily stronger as the light from the lamps brightened around them. The air around the circle vibrated with power as unseen singers joined Willow's voice.   
  


Buffy felt the power surround her and fill her. It was more power than she had ever felt in her entire life. She felt like there was nothing that she couldn't do. She felt completely transformed into a force like nothing else in the world.   
  


She screamed, clutching her head in her hands as blood streamed from her nose. The power was too much. It was an out of control train roaring through her brain, threatening to explode it into a thousand broken shards. Strong hands drew her out of the circle. Buffy opened her eyes to find herself in Spike's arms. His normally cynical eyes were filled with concern laced with fear. Fear for her. Angel stood behind him as did his son and the others.   
  


"What happened?" Spike demanded.   
  


"I don't know!" Willow exclaimed. "It should have worked. It did before."   
  


"It was me," Buffy said, freeing herself from Spike's arms. "I wasn't worthy enough this time. I had doubts about myself. And you guys," she admitted reluctantly.   
  


"Now wait a minute...," Xander began.   
  


Buffy raised her hand, "Too much has happened this past year. It's going to take time for us to build up the trust in each other again. You know that as well as I do, Xander."   
  


"What'll we do, then?" Cordy asked, "We don't have the time for everybody to get that warm and fuzzy feeling about each other again."   
  


"Well," Fred said shyly, "I think Connor should be the one to go against Caleb."   
  


"I don't want him to," Angel disagreed, "He got barely got away as it was. I don't want to chance it again."   
  


"Angel," Fred said, "Connor was the one the wolf came to. He was the one that was able to draw blood from Caleb using the dagger." She nodded toward Connor who was watching the discussion with a frown of concern. "I believe his fate is tied in with Dawn's."   
  


"Connor?" Angel asked his son, "It's up to you, son. What do you say?"   
  


"Fred's right," Connor said, then continued nervously, "I didn't tell you everything about what Caleb said..."   
  


"What did he say?" Angel asked.   
  


"He said that, well...."   
  


"C'mon, Peter Pan. Out with it." Gunn urged impatiently.   
  


Connor studied the ground under his feet, not wanting to look into anyone's eyes. Very quietly he said, "I'm supposed to be the father of this new generation."   
  


"Not with my sister!" Buffy blurted out.   
  


"Connor, you didn't . . . " Cordy started to say.   
  


"No," Connor shouted, "We haven't even kissed yet. All that stuff is supposed to be in the future."   
  


"That is if there is a future," Robin said reasonably, as he checked his watch, "If we continue talking instead of acting, those new champions will never be born."   
  


Connor looked to Angel, "Dad?"   
  


Angel reluctantly nodded, "Go ahead, son."   
  


"Great!" Willow said enthusiastically. "I know this will work this time. Connor, I want you to be in the middle of the circle. Then I want everyone to sit in a circle around him and hold hands. Don't release the circle until I say so, no matter what happens."   
  


Buffy clasped hands with Angel and Spike. She looked up at Angel who was frowning worriedly and said with a gentle smile as she squeezed his hand, "Believe in your son. I do."   
  


Buffy looked over to Spike who was failing to hide his jealously. She squeezed his hand and gave him a radiant smile. She didn't say a word, but Spike's smile as he straightened his shoulders showed that he understood.   
  


Willow began to softly chant. The light from the clay lamps brightened again, and grew even brighter, surrounding the circle with a golden light. The church behind them began to change, the boards fell away its stained glass which began to glow as if lit from within. She could hear a chorus of voices raised in holy song, celebrating a candle lit midnight mass, Gloria, Gloria, In excelsis Deo. In her mind's eye she could see the spirits of light, encircling and imprisoning the dark cancer of Caleb's evil within the church's heart.   
  


Willow slowly closed her eyes with a smile. She knew this time it would work. The power was in perfect balance. She spiritually touched each person in turn, bringing them into the circle of power. She built on the foundation of the strongest, Angel, Robin and Gunn. They were the most stable. Next she brought in the female power of Cordelia and Fred, complementing them with Xander. His power was the most unstable, but it was based on love, the greatest of all things. Then she reached out for the absent ones. Giles and Wesley, the two most knowledgeable. Giles' stronger and more stable strength was used to focus and control Wesley's wounded spirit. She also reached out to Lorne's demon-kind. The flavor of his otherness a shield protecting the weak points of human kind.   
  


Gathering the power together within her, Willow carefully balanced it, adding strength where needed, taming where it threatened to go astray. Finally she reached out to the Slayers, her greatest weapons. They sat facing each other, hands in those men they cared most about. Buffy was already instinctively balancing Angel and Spike, coming into resolution with her feelings about them. Good, Willow thought, the pattern there was stable. Faith, wild unpredictable Faith, was coming in line as well. She had come to terms with Robin's love, who was in turn learning how to love a Slayer. Good, Willow thought again.   
  


Now! Willow shouted mentally, taking her carefully woven tapestry of power and flinging it into Connor. He was slight of frame, but she felt the vastness of his potential.   
  


Connor fell to his knees under the wave of power that washed over him. At first all he could do was withstand it, but then slowly he began to take in and transform it into his own. His eyes darkened into a the deepest of sapphire blue and from inside to out he began to glow.   
  


Holding the dagger in his hands, Connor could see in his mind the crypt where Caleb stood over Dawn, preparing to sacrifice her to his unholy master. Dawn was struggling uselessly against the rough ropes that held her to a crudely carved block of stone. As quick as thought, Connor found himself inside the crypt.   
  


"So you have come to try your luck again, boy." Caleb demanded, whirling around in surprise.   
  


"This time we are stronger than you can ever imagine," Connor replied.   
  


"We, is it now? You wouldn't be trying that Slayer circle, wouldja? I thought only a Slayer could do that. Not a scrawny little boy like you," Caleb said.   
  


"We are more than a mere boy. We are the dreams and hopes of the future that you threaten. You have no power against us," Connor said. He crouched, holding the dagger ready. He crooked his finger at Caleb, "Come meet your fate, false priest. Your time to be judged is now."   
  


"How dare you call me a false priest? I am the priest of the Dark Lord. I have his power. I cannot be defeated," Caleb roared. The pendant on his chest glowed white hot directing a beam straight at Connor.   
  


Connor spun on his toes, deflecting the beam with the dagger. Caleb roared, throwing fireballs at Connor in rapid fire. Connor grabbed the fireballs with one hand and sent them back at Caleb. The mad priest threw himself out of the way of the fireballs barely in time to miss getting singed. The Bringers appeared at his command. They charged at Connor. With a wave of his hand, Connor threw the Bringers against the walls, knocking them dead.   
  


Dawn screamed. Caleb had grabbed a knife and was plunging it toward her heart. Connor threw himself in the air, knocking Caleb to the ground. Caleb hit Connor across the face, sending him against the rough altar. Accidentally dropping the dagger onto the altar, Connor charged at Caleb again. The two men fought each other ferociously. Both were bruised and bloody, but were too evenly matched for either to win.   
  


Caleb raised up his hands, "Come unto me Dark Lord," he yelled, "Come unto me that you may have dominion over those who dare say you nay."   
  


A monstrous misshapen shadow wrapped itself around Caleb, transforming his face into an inhuman mask. The Dark Lord had taken over the priest's body, making it his own. A voice that sounded like the scream of forsaken souls roared out at Connor. The words had no English translation, but they shook Connor to his very soul, reaching back through Willow and the circle she had so carefully built. Connor was starting to doubt himself. He needed the dagger.   
  


"Here," Dawn said, handing him the dagger, "I think you need this."   
  


Their hands touched. Connor was enveloped by the love in Dawn's green eyes. The roar from the unholy being wrapped around them, promising visions of hellish damnation.   
  


"No!" Connor and Dawn shouted as one, raising their hands at the Dark Lord. A great white beam of the purest light exploded from their hands. It struck the Dark Lord, silencing the jabber of evil that had filled the air. The Dark Lord writhed in pain. Slowly it began to shrink until only Caleb remained. Then Caleb screamed in anguish as the white light continued to envelop him. Suddenly he flared up in golden flames. He was gone, leaving the golden pendant of Set gleaming on the cold stone floor.   
  


Connor sighed tiredly. He could feel the power of the others retreat. As they did his eyes returned to their normal light blue. He was alone with Dawn. "How did you . . . " he began as he leaned tiredly against the stone block.   
  


Dawn showed him the raggedly cut ropes around her wrists. "I used the knife to free myself. You kind of cut it a little close. I was starting to wonder if I was going to have to save myself." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Still, I appreciate you getting here when you did."   
  


Connor smiled, "I appreciate your appreciation," he said, "But how about a bigger kiss for your hero?"   
  


"Sure," Dawn said, closing her eyes.   
  


A sudden thunderclap sent Connor and Dawn to the floor. A tall red haired man dressed in an Egyptian style linen kilt appeared in a flash of lightning. "Damn," Set said, "I was wondering where that damn thing went." He spotted Connor and Dawn staring at him in shock. "You kids okay?" he asked.   
  


Connor wordlessly nodded as did Dawn.   
  


"That's good," Set remarked. "You two kids stay out of trouble, all right?"   
  


"Okay," Dawn squeaked.   
  


"Good." Set hung the pendant around his neck, muttering under his breath, "Next time some idiot steals this damn thing I'm going to send him to the ninth level of hell." He glanced over to Dawn and Connor, "Oh, and Merry Christmas, Kids." He disappeared in a thunderclap and lightning.   
  


"You, too," Dawn said to the empty air. She looked over to Connor whose jaw had dropped to the ground. "You can breathe now," she said to him.   
  


"Connor! Dawn! Are you two okay?" asked a chorus of voices as the Scoobies and Angel's gang came tearing down the stairs into the crypt.   
  


"Sure," Connor said, recovering from his shock. He wiped the blood from his split lip. Giving a thumbs up gesture, he said, "It was a piece of cake." 


	4. Chapter Four

  
  


Chapter Four   
  
  
  


To the Future...   
  
  
  
  
  


With a mug of hot chocolate warming his hands, Angel contentedly watched the city lights spread out below him. It had only been two short days, yet it felt like weeks had passed since he had last stood looking out the window from this same exact spot. There was still even a little bit of Christmas eve left to enjoy. But not much, it was nearly midnight.   
  


He turned around to watch the others enjoying themselves. Buffy was sitting on the couch talking to Spike. Spike's face was aglow under Buffy's attention. Angel wondered if that was what he used to look like when he was with the blonde Slayer. He had not yet completely resigned himself to their relationship, but he had to admit that Spike was a better choice than Riley. Spike seemed to worship the ground Buffy walked on. She needed someone like that.   
  


Brunette Faith was in one of the corners of the room, locked in quiet conversation with Robin. They had a long way to go, Angel reflected. He wished them luck. They needed it.   
  


Scattered around the rest of the large room were the rest of the crew. Cordelia was happily chatting away with Giles, Wesley, Fred, Xander and Gunn. Lorne was wordlessly humming some Christmas carol, warming up to lead everyone in some Christmas cheer. Dawn and Connor were together, talking quietly. From the look on their faces, they could have been in the middle of Grand Central Station and still only have eyes for each other. Willow stood alone, a sad, thoughtful look on her face. If it hadn't been for her, there would have been no Christmas to celebrate, but she didn't have the look of triumph on her face.   
  


Then Angel smiled.   
  
  
  


Willow tensed for a moment as hands gently placed themselves on her shoulders. Without looking she knew that touch.   
  


"Miss me?" Oz whispered into her ear.   
  


Willow turned with a welcoming grin, "A little . . . So, how did you know I would be here?" she asked cutting her eyes to Angel.   
  


Oz's eyes followed her glance. A wide, wise smile appeared. "You might say an Angel told me."   
  


Angel turned away, hiding his widening grin as he whistled tunelessly under his breath.   
  


"So," Oz said, "I heard you've been having a hard time."   
  


Willow shrugged, "A little . . . "   
  


"Wish I could have been there for you."   
  


"That's all right," Willow said. She studied the mug of hot cider in her hands. "Uh, you know I'm gay . . . "   
  


Oz nodded. Then kissed her.   
  


Willow touched her lips. "Th. Tha . . . That's. That was nice," she stuttered.   
  


"Let me try it again. See if I can do it a little better," Oz murmured, his voice a soft, throaty growl. He tipped Willow in his arms, kissing her deeply.   
  


Willow sighed, wrapping her arms around Oz. "I think I'm going to have to rethink a few things. I think I need another kiss to help me think."   
  


"Glad to," Oz said, kissing her again.   
  
  
  


  
  


Dawn glanced over to where Willow and Oz stood. She grinned, watching them kiss. Connor's eyes follow Dawn's glance. "Looks like she's happy to see him," he commented.   
  


"She does, doesn't she?" Dawn agreed. She pulled on Connor's sleeve. "I think I need a bit of fresh air."   
  


"But . . . " Connor began. Giles had picked up a guitar and was starting to strum it. "Giles is going to sing," Connor said. "I heard he's great singer."   
  


"We can hear just as good up on the rooftop," Dawn said, pulling Connor out of the room and toward the stairs to the roof.   
  


It was so cold on the rooftop that Dawn's and Connor's breath misted in the air. The moon was high in the horizon, brilliantly lighting the rooftop. Millions of stars had appeared in the black sky, forming a blanket overhead that stunned even the most jaded.   
  


Dawn tilted her head, looking teasingly at Connor through thick brown lashes. "I think you owe me dance," she said.   
  


Connor bowed deeply with a broad grin. "Glad to oblige, m'lady," he said, taking her in his arms. They danced around the rooftop, listening to the music of their beating hearts.   
  


Large fluffy snowflakes began to float around them. Dawn laughed in delight. Looking up into the falling flakes it felt like they were flying. "It's a miracle!" she exclaimed with delight. She spun around in circles, dancing lightly as if she could dance right up into the sky.   
  


Connor clasped her to his chest. He looked down into her glowing eyes. "No," he whispered, "You're the miracle." He tipped her back, kissing her laughing lips.   
  
  
  
  
  


Bells from nearby churches began to chime in the new day. The air seemed to be filled with heavenly music everywhere. Cordelia looked under the Christmas tree curiously. "There seems to be a lot more presents there than I remembered," she commented.   
  


Buffy knelt down under the tree and pulled out some of the gifts. Reading the tags on them, she smiled. "They're from Santa Claus," she said in surprise. She began handing out the gifts. "Hey, Spike," she said, "There's even one for you."   
  


"That comes from saving the world," Spike said. He shook the box. "Probably filled with coal."   
  


Buffy found the present that Santa Claus had given her and Angel. "I think we can open this now," she said.   
  


"What's on the card?" Cordelia asked.   
  


"It says," Buffy said, reading the card, "Now that you have saved the day, here is a glimpse of your future."   
  


"Weird," Cordelia said. "Open it!" she urged impatiently.   
  


Buffy quickly ripped open the present, sending pieces of paper flying everywhere. Inside was a framed picture. The picture showed the Scoobies and Angel's gang together at Christmas time. Except for Spike and Angel, they all seemed to be a few years older. Standing with them were Gru, Joyce, Anya and Darla. In front of the adults were several teenagers.   
  


"Odd picture," Spike commented, "I think Ol' Saint Nick is pulling our chains. Gru, I could swallow, but Joyce, Anya and Darla . . . Aren't they just a little dead?"   
  


"You never know," Angel replied, thoughtfully taking the picture from Buffy's hands. "I'm always expecting Darla to show up again at any time. She's come back from the dead more than once already."   
  


"But my mom and Anya," Buffy said doubtfully.   
  


"Miracles do happen," Angel replied. He ran his fingers across the picture. "I wonder who these kids are?"   
  


"Hmmm," Spike said, pointing to a blonde boy and a brunette girl, "These two look a bit like Connor and Dawn."   
  


"Couldn't be . . . " Cordy said.   
  


Willow took the picture from Angel. "These children are the beginning of a new generation of Champions," she said, seeing into future.   
  


  
  


"What's that?" Dawn said, finally coming up for breath from her long kiss with Connor. "I hear bells. Sleigh bells."   
  


"Sleigh bells?" Connor echoed.   
  


Gunn came up on the roof, followed by the others, "What's that sound?" he asked.   
  


"Sounds like sleigh bells," Fred said, pushing past Gunn.   
  


"It's snowing," Giles said, removing his glasses and cleaning them.   
  


"Impossible," Wesley said, "It doesn't snow in L.A."   
  


Faith nudged Wesley in the ribs, "What do you call that cold white stuff, then?"   
  


Wesley held out his hand, catching a few flakes. "Snow?"   
  


Buffy walked across the rooftop in wonder. "Just like it did in Sunnydale. Remember, Angel?"   
  


"I do," he said, looking thoughtfully at Dawn and Connor.   
  


"Sleigh bells?" Lorne said. "Jingle bells, jingle bells," he broke into song.   
  


Suddenly a strange shadow passed by the moon. It looked like a sleigh led by nine reindeer including one who had a glowing red nose.   
  


"Ho, Ho, Ho," said a cheery deep voice, "Merry Christmas to all. And to all a good night."   
  


Connor clasped Dawn's hand, placing in it a golden bell, "Merry Christmas," he said softly.   
  
  
  
  
  


The End! 

Oh and have a Merry Christmas! 

  
  


  
  


  
  



End file.
